Before the Storm
by Catboiler
Summary: A full novelisation of the prequel game Before the Storm. As with my other works, I won't stick slavishly to the script and the game, but expand on the characters, conversations and events that we know and love. I won't be introducing any new characters, although I will be speculating on things that could have happened off-camera i.e. chapters from the POV of other characters.
1. Intro

**MAJOR SPOILERS**

A couple of things before you start reading.

First, if you haven't yet played the game and are intending to play it, _please don't read this_. There are major spoilers for the events of the game, and I don't want to spoil your first playthrough. This is meant to be read as an addendum to the game, not in place of it. While I find it odd asking you not to read this, the game is such a good narrative that it needs to be experienced. Once you've played it, or if you're not intending to play it, then by all means read away.

Also, if you haven't yet played Life is Strange, be aware that they may be plot spoilers for that game in this story, too.

This will be the third of my works in this fandom, and in fact the third fanfic that I've written. I started my first, the full novelisation of the fantastic Life is Strange video game in February 2016, and began work on an off-canon sequel in June 2016. I didn't realise then that these two stories would take me all the way to August 2017, coming out at around 200k words each! However, the enjoyment I had writing them, and reading the wonderful reviews and constructive criticisms from you, my readers. That feels so odd saying that.

Anyway, I have had numerous requests to novelise Before the Storm, so here it is. I hope you enjoy it and, as before, I'll keep my author's notes for the end. Do note, however, that both my previous stories included flashbacks for Chloe and Rachel, some of which don't now fit with Before the Storm. I have decided, for the moment, at least, not to change them to fit with canon just yet. This may be something I will do in the future, so please take my apologies for that.

This is essentially a canon novelisation of the events of Life is Strange: Before the Storm. However, as before, I'm not sticking slavishly to the script. Conversations may be changed or fleshed out, the story may switch to a different character's point of view (something that I really enjoyed doing in my previous works). However, no new characters will be introduced, the events as told by the game will not be changed, and any new POV chapters will fit in, as far as possible, with the game.

Please do comment and review if there's anything you particularly enjoy, or feel free to criticise if you think I've got something horribly wrong. Any errors will be reviewed and the story amended if necessary.

Enjoy.

 _Catboiler. 11_ _th_ _July 2018._


	2. Addict

"Hi, I'm Sera, and I'm an addict."

The woman, dressed in a simple cream floral dress stood up and surveyed the room. It was a smallish room, part of the local church, and there were approximately fifteen people, all seated in a circle.

"Hi Sera," chorused the others in tandem. Most of them were sat up straight, looking at her, but two were slumped over in their chairs, one was quietly weeping and another was stifling a cough, but not doing a very good job of it.

"I'm happy to report that I've spent another week sober," said Sera, looking around the room. At this announcement, a small round of applause broke out. "Thank you," she said, smiling. "That brings my tally to fifty-nine weeks now." She took a deep breath. "It feels really good to say that, you know," she continued, "and I'd like to thank you all again for your support. I couldn't do it without you." A single tear appeared at the corner of her life eye. "When I came to you, over a year ago, I was a mess. I knew it at the time, I know it now as well." The tear began to meander down her cheek, but she didn't attempt to wipe it away. "I sat there, where you are now. I was slumped over, I was feeling about as low as I think it's possible to feel. But I was here. I may have felt awful, but it was a start." She laughed, but it was a hoarse laugh, and not one of genuine mirth. "They say you have to hit rock bottom before you're able to start back up, and that's certainly how I felt. I wasn't living a life; all I was doing was living to get to my next fix. I was getting money any way I could to pay for my habit; I was stealing, begging, scamming, selling, well, you know what, or you can probably guess." She laughed again. "My life was a tunnel, and all I could see was my next high. And it wasn't really a high, if I'm honest. It was just… escape. Sweet escape from the harsh reality of life."

Sera stopped talking for a moment and wiped her eye with a tissue. She looked around and she could see the people, the ones watching and listening, they were nodding.

 _Of course they're nodding. They've all been there. They all know exactly what I'm talking about._

"So when do you recognise that you've hit rock bottom? A lot of people say it's when they finally see the harm and damage they are doing to their loved ones. But I don't have any. Well, none that I can see, but more on that in a minute. No, for me, rock bottom was a police cell. The cold, stone floor of a cell. The knowledge that I'd tried to sell myself to an undercover officer." She chuckled her mirthless laugh again. "Yeah, that was about it," she said. "I cried all night. It was one of the longest nights of my life. No drugs, just stone and bars. The doctor came to see me the following morning and, I don't know, something broke. Like the floodgates opened. I just told him everything. Absolutely everything. And he listened. For the first time in what seemed like years, somebody actually listened to me. And they didn't want anything in return."

Sera was openly crying now. "He listened to me, and he went and had a conversation with the officer, who then came to talk to me. And he listened, as well. Two hours later, I walked out of the police station with my freedom intact, and a leaflet to contact, well, you. So I did." She chuckled once more. "It took a few weeks to actually get to the point where I could talk to you," she continued, and then, looking at the two slumped over in their chairs, "so don't give up. Persevere, you won't regret it." She paused. "I think the first few weeks were the worst. Detoxing is a complete bitch, ain't it? But I got through it. There were times I thought I wouldn't, times I thought I was dying, but I got through. With your help. And look at me now." Now Sera smiled, but this time it wasn't a smile laced with pain, but a genuine one. "And I think now I'm ready for my next step."

Sera paused once more, looking around the room, drawing breath and courage for what she had to say next. The silence was respected by everyone there, and she smiled again. "I told you earlier I didn't have any loved ones," she said, beginning to choke up again, "but that wasn't quite accurate. I… I have a daughter. I was married, to a lovely guy. The perfect husband, you could say. Only I screwed it up. He hates me now, and with good reason. But I have a daughter. Her name is Rachel, and I haven't seen her for… it seems like since she was born. And I want to see her. This is what I used to get well, her name. Rachel. I told myself if I stayed sober for an entire year, I'd seek her out. Try to re-connect with her. Maybe she'll forgive me, I don't know, maybe she won't. But I have to try, right?" She paused. "I'd never forgive myself if I didn't try. So I won't be here next week. I'll try to find a meeting in Arcadia Bay, 'cos I know how important it is to keep coming, but hopefully, I'll get to see my daughter." She paused. "Wish me luck, and I may be back, I may not, depending how things go. If I'm not back, thank you for all your help, you've been… a godsend."

She sat down, to a warm round of applause from the circle, including, she noted, the two trying desperately to stay unseen.


	3. Tracks

Train tracks were cool.

The thing about trains, and train tracks in general, is that they are pretty much the embodiment of destiny. They go exactly where they're told to go, they don't deviate from their route in any way, shape or form, they get to where they're going (mostly) and they don't argue, get lost, get distracted or generally do anything other than get from A to B on the predesignated tracks.

A truck driver, or a driver in general gets to make choices when they're out and about. Do I go this way? Do I go that way? Should I turn right here? Should I turn around and take the junction I missed back there? A train driver has none of those concerns. The train just follows the track. At a junction, it goes where it's pre-destined to go, and nothing more. It slows down, it speeds up. The only real choice that the driver makes is how fast the train goes, and when to blow the horn.

Train tracks were beautiful.

They could be almost hypnotic in nature. Two parallel steel lines, never meeting, never parting, simply _being._ Inexorably joined together as they wind through the countryside and cities, two companions journeying together throughout their history. These lines would stretch out for miles, sometimes without curving at all. Simple, straightforward and yet strangely friendly.

Train tracks were useful.

If you come across train tracks, you had two choices. Follow them to the left, or follow them to the right? You could _not_ follow them, I suppose, but why would you want to do that? Just follow them. They'll usually lead you to wherever you want to go. Train tracks are good like that.

Train tracks were interesting.

A kind of a symbiotic relationship, tracks and sleepers, neither able to exist without the other. One on top, in charge, the other underneath, supporting, reliable, unmoving, mostly forgotten.

And so the girl stood on the tracks.

The forest around her was darkening, twilight quickly taking its daily hold upon the diminishing light. The wind was blowing softly through the trees, making that comforting _whooshing_ noise. The trees themselves, growing shadows, waved slowly in the breeze from side to side, enveloping the girl all around. The forest was there, it was with her, it was calling her.

Well, the crickets were calling, and boy, were they making themselves known tonight. It was like a cacophony of crickets.

Even though the sound of the forest was captivating and beautiful, there were times, just like this, when she wished she could just turn the volume down to one. Her headphones helped a little, but not as much as she'd like.

So she stood on the tracks. As far away from the trees as possible; here the noise was just about bearable. She flicked her lighter, managing to activate it on her third attempt. She brought it to the cigarette clamped between her lips, sucking in gratefully as the tobacco lit and stood, motionless on the train tracks, gazing ahead as she slowly exhaled, giving life to a cloud of smoke in front of her.

A distant horn pierced the fast-approaching night.

The girl looked up, subconsciously rolling the cigarette between her thumb and index finger, to see the lights of an approaching train.

The horn sounded again, nearer this time, but the girl didn't move. Again she brought the cigarette to her lips, sucking the smoke gratefully into her lungs, and exhaling the cloud with a relieved sigh. Her figure was now bathed in the lights of the approaching train. She wore a dark hoodie, hood right up obscuring her face, and dark blue jeans, patched on one side.

The train sounded once again, but again she ignored it, taking another drag from her cigarette. She smiled, as if playing a solo game of chicken against an oncoming freight train.

The horn blew once more, more urgently this time, but still the girl didn't budge. Sparks flew from the wheels as the train driver slammed on his brakes, praying fervently for some twist of fate as he knew there was no chance of the train actually stopping before it hit the girl. Maybe she wanted to be there, maybe tonight was her turn, her choice to leave this world for the next, and the train driver was simply a pawn in this game. Or maybe she was just being a jerk, playing a game of chicken, not realising just how much danger she was putting herself in. What if she tripped? What if her foot was caught in the rails? What if she couldn't actually get out of the way? What if…

The girl moved. She carelessly discarded her cigarette onto the rails, took two steps to her right and hopped out of the way of the train, bouncing off the rails just as the train passed by. She grinned as the voice of the train driver, swearing and cursing at her, more in fear and relief than actual anger, passed into the distance as the train stopped sparking and braking and began to slowly speed up once more. She was sure she saw a dark figure leaping nimbly from the train, a little further down the tracks, and scramble up the path to the old mill, but the figure was too quick for her to follow. However, it did show her the way up to the old mill.

Pausing briefly, the girl turned her back on the passing wagons. She looked up and lifted her hoodie off her head, revealing her face to the night for the first time. She was an attractive girl, but one whose face was hinted at a hidden pain. She looked ahead and up to her right at the lights hidden behind the trees and smirked. Her mousy-brown hair swirled in the light wind as she began walking towards the lights, her smirk morphing into a full smile.

 _I can't believe Firewalk is playing a show at the old mill. Fuck! Yes!_

Her stride turned into a swagger as she approached, but then stopped suddenly, scratching her head.

 _Mom would kill me if she knew I was out here._

She shook her head, smiling again as she remembered why she was there.

 _Firewalk!_

She swaggered along the forest path for a few minutes, completely ignoring the sounds of the night, the trees swaying contentedly in the breeze. The path was pretty good, all told. It could be a complete nightmare after the rain, but it was pretty dry today and had been for a couple of days, so the path was walkable. She soon came upon a fence blocking her path, with a large red sign adorning the barbed wire along the top.

 _WARNING!_

 _Do Not Enter._

 _Hazardous conditions exist._

 _No Trespassing._

 _Private Property._

Eyebrows raised, she scoffed.

"No trespassing?" she whispered to herself. "Yeah, right. Fuck that."

It was ironic that it was the warning sign itself that helped her over. She backed up a couple of paces and, using the sign as protection against the barbed wire, she easily vaulted over the fence, landing neatly on the other side.

"Nailed the landing!" she gloated, quietly to herself. "At least a four point oh." She shivered quickly as a gust of wind brought the cold air through her clothes, but just as quickly shook it off as she thought about what lay ahead.

 _Firewalk!_

She continued up the dirt path, a low flickering light guiding her to her destination. Grinning to herself, she picked up the pace, eventually breaching the forest as the trees parted to reveal her goal.

The old mill.

"Holy shit!" she muttered to herself, involuntarily stopping to take in the view.

The old mill, was, as its name suggested, an old mill. Nobody could quite remember exactly when it had been built, or exactly when the final timbers had been processed, but everyone knew of it's existence. It was a place to hang out, meet people, host parties or concerts, and purchase certain… supplies that weren't necessarily readily available. Or legal.

"This place is awesome." The words left Chloe's lips before she realised what she was saying.

It loomed high above Chloe as she looked at it. From within, she could hear muffled strains of the band she hiked an hour to listen to, causing her heart rate to thump in time with the music, together with flashing lights. Outside, a fire pit lit up the night, the flames dancing and flickering, as if to the thumping music from inside. An RV was parked, together with a few bikes around the clearing. The only other light was over the entrance door, lighting up…

 _A bouncer. Shit. I hadn't counted on that._

She took several steps forward, allowing the light from the fire to play on her face. It entranced her, and she nearly tripped over a large object lying on the ground. It was an old, rusty saw, and it looked mean.

 _Shit, I wonder how long that's been there. I mean, I wonder how long ago the mill actually closed?_

Chloe stepped around the ancient saw and approached the entrance. The bouncer, a heavyset man with what looked like cultural tattoos on his right arm, neck and right side of his face and huge ear-stretchers, saw her and raised his eyebrows. She swaggered up to him with as much nonchalance as she could muster, and he smiled as she approached.

"You again?" His voice was deep, matching his stature. It was polite and friendly, but at the same had a slight edge to it.

"What?" asked Chloe, confused.

"Sorry," said the guy. "Thought you were someone else. Can I help you?"

She grinned suddenly, nodding past him at the door. "I want in," she said, producing her fake ID with a flourish. She waved it in front of his face and he looked at her with eyebrows raised. She got the message and handed it over; he scrutinised it for a moment, nodding appreciatively. Then he held it up to the light.

"Not a bad fake," he said. "Not bad at all, actually. Nearly had me." He threw it back at her; she tried to catch it deftly, but it slipped out of her hands and she sighed and picked it up off the floor. "But not good enough, I'm afraid. You're in over your head." He nodded behind her. "Do yourself a favour and scram. This isn't somewhere you want to be."

"Aw c'mon, man," she wheedled. "I've hiked an hour to see them."

"See who?" he smiled. "Nothing going on here tonight." Just as he said that, there was a massive _whang_ of a guitar chord, crashing cymbals and a huge roar from the revellers inside. He cocked his head and smiled. "Nope," he said. "Nothing to see here."

Chloe glared at him and stalked off.

"Shit," she muttered. "Foiled at the last."

 _There's gotta be a way in. Fuck, I've come too far to be stuffed at the final hurdle. Mom would totally flip if she found out I was here, let alone hiked an hour to get here!_

She grinned.

 _Totally worth it._

She had a quick look around the clearing. There were a couple of guys arguing near the RV; she couldn't quite hear what they were arguing about, but they'd began pushing each other around, so she gave them a wide berth. She hooted as she saw a second door to the side and ran over, but her grin disappeared as she pulled at it, but couldn't get it open.

 _So close…_

She put her ear to the door and listened to the band for a few minutes, smiling to herself. Finally, she forced herself to draw away.

 _C'mon Chloe. Listening at the door, that's not you. Inside, that's the place to be. But how to get past ol' Thunderfoot here._

She looked again at the bikes, parked in a row by the wall. There was one, parked slightly away from the others, and the bouncer was eyeing it up, every now and again, as if he was checking on it from time to time. Chloe nodded in realisation and a small smile played on her lips.

 _Nothing says badass like a nice floral print. Maybe I could use that against him._

She gripped the handlebars and raised a leg, as if she was going to climb on. As she did, she heard a shout behind her.

"I asked you to leave, kid," said the bouncer, stepping over to her. She put her leg down, glanced at him and then back at the bike.

"This yours?"

"Yup," said the bouncer. "What of it?"

"It's… pretty cool." _Lame, Chloe, totally lame._ She mentally kicked herself.

"Well, gee, thanks," said the bouncer, unimpressed. He leant into her. "You should probably just go," he said, pointing behind her, but Chloe shook her head.

"I don't think so," she said, trying to sound authoritative. It didn't work.

"Go on," he said. "Go back to your mommy."

"Aw come on, dude," said Chloe. "Don't you remember what it's like to be a teenager? I just want to see the band, man!"

"We went over this once, kid," said the bouncer. He was still talking kindly, but the edge to his voice was still there. "It's past your bedtime."

"Yeah, it is," said Chloe, "but my mommy isn't here to tuck me in." She looked at her watch. "Thing is, it's past yours too. Would _you_ tuck me in?"

"Tempting," said the bouncer, grinning in spite of himself. "But I still don't know you, so don't get cute with me."

Chloe raised her eyebrows. "Cute?" she said, raising her voice. "Do I look like I do 'cute'?" she said. "Or do I look like I'm going to kick your ass?" That remark actually brought a guffaw from the bouncer, who looked at her with new interest.

"Okay, I get it, kid. So you think you're tough," he said. "But you wouldn't take me."

"Ok, so I am a kid," she confessed. "With a damn good fake ID. Then again, this place looks like a damn good playground, so I reckon I belong right here. Right now."

The bouncer's face softened. "It's… look, kid, it's no playground in there. A girl like you… I won't be able to protect you, you understand?"

"A girl like me?" said Chloe, grinning. She nodded at the bike. "A girl like you with pretty, pretty flowers on her bicycle shouldn't lecture me on what I can and can't do. I don't even allow my mommy to do that! C'mon, man, I can take care of myself. Or are you a crusher of little girls' dreams?"

"Pretty flowers?" he said, taking a step forward, "that's a traditional Samoan…" He caught himself, laughing. "Oh, you're good," he said. "I like your spunk." He looked around. "Look, kid, if it were up to me, I'd let you in, but my boss is the one who decides who gets in."

"Is your boss your mom?" said Chloe, on a roll. She giggled. "Does your boss tuck you in at night? Do you live in your boss's basement?"

The bouncer laughed, long and hard. "You're not accepting no for an answer, are you, kid?"

Chloe grinned. "Nope," she said. "Don't see your boss here, do you?"

The bouncer looked at her, then looked around. "Okay," he said, finally. "You really think you could take me?"

Chloe nodded. "I could take you blindfolded," she said, taking a step forward.

The bouncer looked at her, then grinned. "What if I weren't blindfolded?" he said, and Chloe giggled, in spite of her trying to look badass.

"I could still take you," she said, trying not to laugh.

"What if I had a knife?" he said.

"No problem," said Chloe.

"A gun?"

"Don't care."

"What if I had…"

"I don't care if you had a flamethrower, an army of robot ninja-wolves, a motherfucking dragon on a leash, or even a doppleganger of my mom in there, it wouldn't make an ounce of difference," she said. "I would still kick your ass."

"Okay, okay," said the bouncer, laughing and throwing up his hands. "I give up! Go on in." He stood by and let Chloe past. Trying not to grin too much, she sauntered past him, but stopped at the door.

"Could you possibly open the door for lil' ol' me?" she asked, sweetly, eliciting another loud guffaw from the bouncer.

"Don't push it, kid," he said, grinning, and she opened the door and went in.


	4. Fire Walk with Me

It was like a dream come true.

Chloe let the door close behind her, and walked into the mill, grinning from ear to ear. Inside, the sound of the music split the air, and Chloe looked around.

 _Totally intense, man._

The interior of the mill was exactly as she'd expected. A large central area, surrounded by complex wooden supports, railings, floor; there were old, dilapidated steps leading up to a mezzanine, people milling around. A large graffiti bearing the name 'Damon Merrick' adorned the wall, a deer's head with neon blue eyes watched over the area with a quiet serenity, and there was even a makeshift bar area, with a box of beers lying on a table. She grabbed one and opened it, smirking as the carbon dioxide escaped with a quite _pffz_ , drinking down a long gulp and sighing contentedly. There were a few people milling around, some awkwardly dancing, but something caught Chloe's eye before she went into the concert area proper.

The T-shirt vendor.

He'd backed his beige car into the area, boot open, displaying his wares.

 _Beige? Seriously? Does he even…_

She took a quick look at the t-shirts, and her heart stopped. Classic black, with an awesome Firewalk logo, inside a lighter, right in the centre, of the shirt.

 _Oh hell yeah! Come to momma!_

Reaching out, she almost managed to touch one before the vendor noticed. "Hey!" he shouted, coming out from around the other side of the car. "You buying?" he asked, his eyes narrowing hawkishly.

"Maybe," said Chloe, inwardly chiding herself for getting caught. "How much?"

"Normally twenty bucks, but seeing as you're cute 'n' all, you can have it for ten," said the vendor. He paused, then shook his head. "But you were gonna hawk it, weren'tcha?" he said. "Nah, twenty bucks, baby, an' I don't care how cute y'are."

"Twenty bucks? That's robbery!" said Chloe, her face falling.

 _I have to have that shirt._

"Pity," said the vendor. "That's just what you were gonna do. Now pay up, or shut up," he said, sitting on the edge of the boot, causing the car to creak on its suspension.

Disappointed, Chloe kicked out at the floor and walked away, looking on the walls.

 _Looks like I need to ease out my creative juices here._

She looked around. A graffiti on the wall around the side of the car caught her eye, and she headed over, ignoring the vendor who was watching her like a hawk.

As she looked, she bumped into the car slightly. "Watch it!" shouted the vendor, not really taking any notice of her. But it gave her an idea.

She quickly looked around. The vendor was drinking from a beer bottle, not looking at her at all. As she watched, he shifted position (the edge of the boot wasn't the most comfortable place to sit) and stood up, taking his weight entirely off the boot. This was her chance. Stealthily, she reached inside the car through the open window and unhooked the parking brake, just as swiftly walking away towards a guy with a pitbull. The dog barked at her, but only half-heartedly, and she knelt down and took the dog's head in her hands.

"Hi there," she whispered, caressing his head. The dog half-closed his eyes, loving the touch and attention. "What's his name?" she asked, looking up.

"Delia," said the owner, "her name is Delia."

Chloe grinned. "Delia," she crooned, "what a good girl."

"Strange," said the man. "She doesn't usually like people."

"Strange," said Chloe, not looking up. "Neither do I." She continued crooning to the dog for a few seconds, then looked up as the T-Shirt vendor gave a yell. He'd sat back on the boot and, with no parking brake, the car had rolled out of the mill. Frantically, he'd tried to stop it, but to no avail. She rose to her feet and, as he ran around the front of the car, she swiftly grabbed a Firewalk T-Shirt. Before she walked away, however, she saw, poking out of a box, a big wad of cash. After another furtive look around, she grabbed it without a thought and walked away, grinning.

 _Like a ninja!_

"Chloe!" The voice reached Chloe and she turned, breaking out into a half-grin as she saw who'd recognised her, and walked across to a young man in a beanie sitting on a reclining sofa.

"Frank," she said. "What're you doing here?"

"Same as you," he said, but Chloe shook her head.

"I don't think so," she said, smiling. "You here on business?"

"Ssh," Frank said, shaking his head. "Quiet down." He looked around furtively, then back at the young girl. "Nice getup," he said, whistling, "although… studs? You're trying too hard."

"Frank, I don't give you fashion advice," Chloe said, still smiling but smarting inside. She'd spend a good hour earlier that night getting her look just right, complete with stud bracelets. "Anyway, I'm here to see Firewalk, man."

"You walked here?"

"Took an hour."

"It's not exactly public news, this little shindig," said Frank, frowning. "How'd you even hear about it?"

"Seriously, dude?" said Chloe, grinning broadly. "See, there's this wonderful thing called the internet. You probably haven't heard of it. And on this internet thing, you can find out shit. Shit like when Firewalk are playing. And where!"

"I know what the internet is, Chloe," growled Frank. "But this wasn't supposed to be public knowledge. Fuckin' kids." He looked at Chloe. "What do you really want, Chloe? 'Cos I'm guessing it's not my scathing wit or riveting conversation." He raised his eyebrows at her, and she looked away, suddenly unable to hold his gaze. "Ah, I get it. Well, once you pay your bill, you can have some. You… don't happen to have a hundred seventy-five on you, do ya?"

 _Shit, do I really owe that much? Still… No wait, I can't give him that money, can I? He'll start asking questions if I just pull out a wad of cash. Shit, shit._

"Don't worry about it, Frank," she said. "I want to enjoy the show, not get high."

"Really?"

"Don't you believe me?"

"Well, let's see about that," he said. "No. I don't believe you."

"Why Frank, that hurts."

Frank smiled. "Would _you_ believe you?"

"Of course I…"

"Be honest, Chloe."

Chloe paused. "Okay," she said, throwing her hands up. "Spot me? You know I'm good for it."

"Sure," said Frank. "Gimme the one seventy-five, and I'll spot ya."

"I…" said Chloe, breaking off and looking defeated. "Never mind."

"See ya round," said Frank, sitting back and putting his hands behind his head, and Chloe turned to walk away. "Enjoy the show," he added, and she nodded back at him.

 _Okay, enough dilly-dallying. Let's get FIREWALKING!_

She picked up another beer on the way through to the entrance to the stage area and cracked it open, taking a long swallow and sighing once more. It was lovely and cold, perfectly refreshing and she grinned broadly, heading pasts the bar and left, noticing a drunk guy snoring quietly on the floor and two guys chatting quietly, sitting by the bar, drinking heavily.

However, ahead of her was a crowd of people, dancing, enjoying themselves, and the music was deafening.

"Uh, excuse me," she said, but the music was so loud she couldn't be heard. "Excuse me!" she tried again, louder this time, but to no avail. They either couldn't hear her or they were ignoring her. Either way, she had to get into the stage area. She took a step forward and tried to push her way through the crowd, but there was no way through. All she received for her troubles was a clout on the side of the head from a reveller.

"Shit!" she cursed, her hand flying to her head. "Watch where you're…" She never got to finish the sentence, as the dancer jumped into the air, arms flailing, and his left arm caught her again, pushing her backwards. Off balance, she stumbled backwards, her heart pounding, but luckily her fall was arrested as she stumbled into another person and she was able to regain her balance.

Luckily?

"Hey, thanks du…" The words hung on her lips as she turned around to see the person that she'd stumbled into. It was one of the two guys drinking heavily at the bar, and she was horrified to see that, when she'd hit him, she'd hit the beer he was drinking, beer that was now soaked into his shirt, and the expression on his face was certainly not one of gratitude.

 _Oh shit._

Chloe took a fearful step backward, as the guy looked down at his shirt. He was a tall man, wearing a white sleeveless t-shirt with a circled 'A' logo that looked like it was written in blood on it. He looked at his friend, then back at Chloe.

"Hey, you okay?" he said, looking her up and down.

"Yeah, I'm fine," mumbled Chloe, and tried to walk past, but he blocked her path.

"Relax, babe," he said. "You bumped into me, remember?"

"Yeah, I know," said Chloe, holding her hands up. "My bad, sorry. Can I get you another beer?" She tried again to walk past, but again he blocked her path.

"You don't know who I am, do you?" he said.

 _Shit, another wannabe?_

"You know what?" said Chloe, her patience wearing thin. "I actually have no idea who you are. I've also no desire to know who you are. I don't care, okay?" She pushed past his friend, walking away, sounding way more courageous than she felt.

 _Oh god, have I fucked up tonight already? Can I even get in now?_

"Bitch," spat the man's friend as she walked away, but she ignored them.

"Chloe!" The call came from the other side of the room.

"Frank," she said, walking back across to him.

"You need to be careful, Chloe," said Frank. "This isn't place for little girls, you know."

"Yeah, like I care," she said. "Who was that guy I ran into? He acted like I was supposed to know who the fuck he was. He important or something?"

"Yeah, I know him. Works for Damon," said Frank, eyeing the guy, who was arguing with his friend at the bar.

"Damon… Merrick?"

"Yeah. I see you've heard of him. This is his place. He's… a friend of mine."

 _Pity there's not another way into the…_

Her eyes fell on the dilapidated staircase near the entrance.

 _That could work…_

"Frank, where do those stairs go?"

He looked at her with barely disguised contempt. "Uh, they go up, Chloe. The stairs. Go up. Up. They go up. Like most stairs do. And you know, if you turn around, they go down again." He chuckled and leaned back, putting his hands behind his head.

"Real helpful, Frank," she said. "I mean…"

"I know what you mean," he growled. "Floor's rotted to hell up there, okay? No-one goes up there."

"Except me," she said. "I reckon I can get a good view."

"Okay," said Frank, shaking his head. "It's your funeral. Just don't expect me to attend. Or pay for it."

"Fine," said Chloe, turning. "Later, dude."

"Yeah, yeah," said Frank, closing his eyes.

She carefully picked her way up the first few steps. The Health and Safety board could have a field day with them. There were stairs missing, the handrail wasn't there in places, and the stairs that were there were really rather dangerous.

Not that any of that mattered. Her destination lay upstairs, so she climbed the rest of the way and grinned when she reached the top. Ahead of her was a small mezzanine floor.

And nobody was up there.

 _Her_ mezzanine floor.

 _Fuck yes!_

She walked to the edge and peered over. There, in front of her, was the stage. And on the stage…

 _Firewalk! Fucking A!_

The band was deafening, the people were dancing and jumping, and Chloe was in heaven. She jumped around, banging her head and playing air guitar along with the band, singing the song at the top of her voice.

"Cos we've waited all our lives, and now's our fuckin' time, cos we've waited all our lives. Yeah, we're coming!"

 _Fuck yeah! I made it! Like a boss!_

Eventually, she sat down, swinging her legs over the side of the mezzanine and closed her eyes, still singing.

"Rage, or maybe it's my age, or maybe I'm a plague, in every class a clown. Hope, cos radio's a joke, cos all they do is talk and bring the nation down."

She leaned back, opening her eyes and looking up at the wooden ceiling, listening to the music, still writhing around, enjoying herself, although she couldn't quite get rid of the nagging thoughts that still penetrated her mind.

 _This is fucking awesome._

 _Would be better with two, though._

 _Max, where are you? We should be sharing this. Captain Chloe and her first mate, faithful Max. Together forever, right? That's what we promised._

 _Oh Max, where are you? Why haven't you rung me, or texted, or emailed? Or anything?_

 _Have you forgotten about me?_

 _Am I that unimportant to you? To anyone? To everyone?_

 _Max?_

"Hey you! You spilled my beer, bitch!"

Chloe opened her eyes quickly, the voice bringing her back to reality. Leaning over her was the skeevy guy from earlier. He'd obviously followed her up the stairs. And he'd brought his friend, too.

 _This could go south. Pretty damn quick, too. Maybe try the calm approach this time?_

"Yeah, look, I'm sorry about that," said Chloe, getting to her feet. "I'm just here to enjoy the band, yeah? No harm done, right?"

"Not good enough, bitch," said the skeevy guy.

"Look, it wasn't my fault," said Chloe. "Someone knocked me into you." She shrugged, her temper beginning to flare. "You should be more careful," she said, before she realised exactly what was coming out of her mouth, "it's a rough place here."

 _Shit, Chloe, quiet down, man!_

"You know what?" said the guy to his friend, "I don't like her attitude. I don't like people disrespecting me." He turned back to her and took a step forward. "I'm not impressed, little girl," he said.

 _Little girl? Little? Girl?_

Something deep down in Chloe began to burn. "Then how about I show you how unimpressed I am with limp dick assholes who get butthurt over a spilled beer?" she said.

The guy just looked at her in amazement.

"You know what, Sheldon? I think she's calling us out," said his friend.

"Yeah? Well, she's going to regret every word," said the skeevy guy, Sheldon. "Every. Single. Word." He advanced on Chloe, and his friend followed suit, backing her further towards the corner. As they did, his friend began to chuckle.

"Oh yeah, this is gonna be good, isn't it, Shel?" he said, looking to his mate for support.

"You'd better believe it, man," said Sheldon. "I'm gonna teach this little punk bitch some manners."

Chloe looked behind her in growing fear. She was getting dangerously close to the edge, and it wasn't a short drop. She turned back. "I'm serious here," she yelled, over the music. "You want to see me get angry? Because I'm getting there, and it won't be pretty. It won't, I promise you that!"

"She thinks she can take you," chuckled the smaller man, and Sheldon grinned. In one, heart-stopping moment he smashed a bottle against one of the wooden supports and put his hand to Chloe's throat, pushing her back against another support. He held the broken bottle to her face and leered in at her.

"Now then, little…"

"Hey, dickhead!"

He turned, letting go of Chloe as he did so to find the source of the female voice. It came from the stairs, and another young girl, dressed in a black leather outfit, her hair up and plastered with make-up, and one very unique earring that looked like a flash of electric blue, stood tall. Taking advantage of the distraction, Chloe knocked the bottle from his hand and brought her knee up, straight into his groin. He groaned once, all the fight promptly taken out of him and fell to the floor, clutching his groin.

"My sack, my fuckin' sack!" he groaned, rolling over and over. His friend took a quick step forward and hurled a left hook at Chloe, connecting solidly with her right cheek. She stumbled across the mezzanine, and the other girl caught her, arresting her fall. Chloe looked up, recognising the girl for the first time.

"Rachel?"


	5. Expectations

Expectations were a bitch. 

No, that wasn't quite right.

Expectations _could_ be a bitch.

Your own history played a major part in that, too.

You could even say that expectations were your own fault.

When you're smart, people expect you to prove it at any and every opportunity.

When you're beautiful, people expect you to flaunt it at any and every opportunity.

When you're talented, well, you can guess the next part.

And all because you've been smart, and talented, and beautiful in the past.

It used to be that getting an 'A' on a test was great. You received the test paper and you opened it up (or turned it over), your heart beating expectantly. There was that 'A', accompanied by a feeling of euphoria. And, when you got home, there was a chorus of 'well dones' awaiting from your parents, only adding to the exultation.

But now, after many A's, there is no euphoria. No exultation. Only expectation. An 'A' was the norm now. An 'A' is followed by… well, not much. However, anything that isn't an 'A', a 'B', or even an 'A minus', now that is followed by an outburst of 'you're not working hard enough', or 'you're wasting the opportunity we've given you', or maybe 'you're just stupid.' An 'A' used to be happy. Now it's just contentment. There is no happy any more.

Yeah, expectations weren't great, in the long run, were they?

And so, Rachel Amber, daughter of the Arcadia Bay District Attorney (up for re-election), found other avenues for her energies and creative juices.

"Morning mom," she said, coming downstairs and slipping into her chair at the breakfast table. "Morning dad."

"Mm," said her father, from behind his newspaper. It was the same most days. Her mother would toil over a decent breakfast, which her father would eat while reading the newspaper, completely ignoring everything else. It was 'his' time, and Rachel knew better than to interrupt.

"Morning dear," said her mother, looking up from her work in the kitchen. "Same as usual?"

"Please," said Rachel. Same as usual was two slices of buttered toast, a cup of coffee and a muffin. It arrived soon after and she ate quietly.

"Much on today?" asked her mother, coming to the table and eating with her daughter.

"Couple of classes this morning, English and Science, I think," said Rachel, "but we've got a dress rehearsal this afternoon." She sighed. "Not long now."

"Saturday evening."

"Looking forward to it?"

"Of course," said Rachel, washing down her toast with a mouthful of coffee. "I mean, it's nice rehearsing and doing all the work, but it's all about the performance, right?"

"We're looking forward to seeing it, aren't we, James?" she said, and Rachel's father looked up from the newspaper.

"Huh?" he said.

"The Tempest. On Saturday," said her mother, and her father nodded.

"Yes, we are," he said. He put down the newspaper and smiled. "Rehearsals going good?"

"Not bad," said Rachel, smiling back at her father.

"I remember going to see The Tempest a few years ago. Was it… did I take you, darling?" he said, turning to his wife.

"No dear, I don't remember going," she said.

"Ah well, it must have been…" James stopped talking quickly, and swallowed. "It must have been before we met," he said, picking up his newspaper and disappearing behind it once more. Rachel sighed and her mother shot a warning glance at her.

 _Don't make a scene_ , it said.

"I feel for the understudies," said her mother. "They've worked just as hard as all of you, but they won't perform, they won't be seen, they'll get no acclaim at all."

"They might," said Rachel, frowning. "I mean, they need to be there, don't they?"

"Only if something untoward happens to the regular cast member," said her mother. "It's just… it's a bit of a thankless role, really." She got up from the table and began to clear up. "Well, have a good day, dear. Study hard, and practice hard for Saturday."

"Will do, mom," said Rachel, rising from the table. "Need a hand?"

"No, I'm fine, dear," she said, collecting up her father's breakfast plate and cup from under his nose. He grunted slightly, then went back to his newspaper. "Off you go, I'll see you later."

"I may be late home tonight, mom," said Rachel, heading out.

"Anywhere nice?"

"Not really," she said. "The rehearsal will probably go on longer. You know what Mr Keaton's like. I'll be fine."

"Okay, dear," said her mother. "You be careful, now."

"Will do, mom," she said, walking out the door. "Bye dad!" she called, only to be replied by stony silence. Her face fell as she left the family home. "Bye dad," she whispered as she closed the door behind her, but it was a beautiful day outside and she couldn't stay mad for long. Soon her frown was gone as she made her way to school.

…

 _Tonight. The Old Mill._

Those four words kept barrelling around Rachel's mind as she breezed through the morning's classes. It had taken a little while for 'Ask Miss Arcadia' to get back to her, but that's exactly what she did that very morning, with the four little words that had turned a dull morning into one full of expectations.

There's that word again.

Mrs Hoida's English class was… the word fun was certainly an inaccurate choice of words. It wasn't difficult – Rachel's intellect was such that she was very rarely tested during class, but it wasn't fun.

 _Someone told me once that school was supposed to be enjoyable._

In a desperate attempt to link up with the Tempest's performance on Saturday, Mrs Hoida was doing an appreciation of the play during her class. Which was great, except that Rachel, Victoria, Dana and Juliet, all who had parts in the play, had had enough of it, to be honest. Mr Keaton (drama teacher and director) had bleated on about the subtext so often that she'd grown desensitised to it.

She _knew_ all about the symbolism and allegory in the play. She knew it off by heart. If she closed her eyes, she could hear Mr Keaton's voice, over and over.

 _"The whole point about a game of chess is what? To win? Maybe, but really the objective is to capture the king. If you break it down to its common denominator, that is exactly the significance of Prospero revealing that Ferdinand and Miranda playing chess in the final scene. Prospero has caught the king – Alonso – and reprimanded him for his treachery. In doing so, Prospero has married Alonso's son to his own daughter in a deft bit of political manoeuvring that assures the king's support because Alonso has no interest in upsetting a dukedom to which his own son is heir. This is Prospero's end game. He has manoeuvred the different passengers of Alonso's ship around the island with the deft skill of a great chess player manipulating his pieces. The whole point is for Prospero to make his enemies suffer, as he suffered himself, in order that they may learn from their suffering, as he so learned."_

So, English was a bust. Science was a little more interesting, but not by much. She, of course, was always polite and a delight to the teachers (and Ms Grant was always a sweetie), so much so that sometimes it nauseated even her, but it had the desired effect. She was allowed the odd slip-up, the odd late assignment due to her exemplary record.

 _You get out of life what you put in._ Even though she hated to admit it, her father had a point.

She managed to get through Science without falling asleep, although it was challenging at one point. She even smiled dutifully when she was paired with Victoria Chase, the annoyingly prim and proper (to look at, once you got to know her she had teeth and claws and wasn't afraid to use either, although, to be honest, it would be far more impressive if she actually _had_ the power that she claimed to have), and they spent the whole twenty minutes smiling politely, all the while working out how to best maim each other and destroy their future.

Actually, in retrospect, that was probably the most fun she had all morning.

She didn't feel like eating any lunch (besides, she wanted to ensure she'd fit into the clothes she'd brought for the gig tonight), so she spent it outside, sat on the seat near the fountain, watching the world go by.

She saw Dana and Juliet, sitting on one of the tables over in the corner. They seemed to be having quite the animated discussion, although about what she couldn't quite tell. On the other table, the other side of the path, sat Steph. Rachel knew hew from the play (she was the stage manager) but she'd never talked to her. She was talking to that coloured kid… Mike? Mick? Something like that. He was quite animated, while Steph seemed to be neck deep in several books. Were they playing some sort of a game?

Near the door, a young girl was sat under a tree, doing nothing but staring vacantly into space. She seemed totally catatonic, except when Nathan Prescott walked by, heading into the school. Only then did she show signs of life, her turning slowly as her gaze followed him in.

The only other people she saw was Drew, heading out of the school, probably to football practice, and a girl with mousey brown hair that Rachel had seen hanging around (and getting in trouble). She didn't know much about her, apart from her name. Chloe. Out of everyone, she was probably the most interesting of the lot. Non-conforming, a vicious temper on her, but, Rachel reckoned, that temper hid a vulnerable and lonely girl who really needed a friend.

 _Just like me._

Truth be told, Rachel really wanted to speak to her, but could never seem to find the right time, or pluck up the courage.

 _What if she blanks me?_

 _Maybe tomorrow,_ she thought, getting up and heading into school for the dress rehearsal.

…

Mr Keaton didn't disappoint. After a small hissy fit with Juliet's portrayal of Ariel (well, not so small, really), the rehearsal went off without too much of a hitch. They had to sit through another lecture of Prospero's endgame and the symbolism and allegory that came along with it.

 _Really? Didn't Mrs Hoida go through that already today?_

But she couldn't stay mad for long. School was out! And you know what that meant!

 _Firewalk! Yeah!_

The useful thing of the dress rehearsal is that she could change her clothes quite happily and privately. Unlike her usual attire, she was dressing to kill tonight. Going for the black look, she pulled on a black t-shirt (the one with the picture of the guitarist on it), black leggings with denim shorts over the top, black fingerless gloves and a black studded jacket. She grinned as did pulled on the black belt with a silver buckle (the one with the middle finger), and she pulled a couple of necklaces over her head – one black choker with studs, one green with a red jewel set into a silver pendant, and the final long black one. She had to loop it around her neck several times before she was happy with the results. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and pulled on a pair of sleek black boots. The final touch was her pride and joy, a beautiful single blue feather earring. Once she'd sorted out her makeup, she looked in the mirror, surveyed her new look and grinned.

 _Smoke 'em, baby!_

She knew that the old mill was a good way away, probably about an hour's hike, but she had no intention of actually walking there. Not when there was a perfectly good alternative method of transport just waiting for her. And the train actually passed by the old mill too! Couldn't have been more perfect.

Getting on the train wasn't a problem. She waited until the engine had passed – it was on a curve so it wasn't travelling too quickly, and she spotted a truck with the door not quite attached. She quickly ran to the truck, pulling herself up onto the side while she unlatched the door. She slid it across and rolled into the truck, panting slightly. Looking down, she saw that she'd caught her leggings on something, probably when rolling into the truck, and they were torn. She frowned, looking them over, but decided they actually looked more badass that way.

 _Yeah. You rock, girl._

It really hadn't been difficult, but perhaps a little stressful, to find out the location of the concert. She'd heard rumours of Firewalk coming to town, and as soon as she'd heard them, she knew she had to see them. It had been frustrating at first, no one knew the location, or they weren't talking. Perhaps it was some sort of secret gig, but that wasn't going to stop her. So she asked 'Miss Arcadia.' 'Ask Miss Arcadia' was a local website, something of a retro-style bulletin board. Questions were posted, and anyone who had the answer would reply. So up went the question, and this morning (cutting it a little fine, weren't we?) the answer came back.

 _Firewalk. The old mill._

The words that had been circling like rabid vultures around her mind all day.

 _Firewalk. The old mill._

The train whistled, and then whistled again, seemingly with more urgency.

 _Problem?_

She could feel the train slowing down as the screech of the brakes hit her ears. The train whistled a third time and she was thrown to the front of the truck as the train slowed right down.

 _Shit, someone on the tracks? Poor guy._

As the train was slow, and the old mill was in sight, she quietly jumped off the train. She could see further up the tracks, the sparks flying from the wheels as the train tried desperately to stop, but then they disappeared, the train whistled a final time and began to speed up.

 _Probably a kid playing chicken._

She shrugged and started up the dirt path to the old mill. She had to jump over a fence, but other than that the path was easy enough. She quickly arrived at a clearing with some sort of big guy with… south sea island tattoos, a fire, loads of motorcycles, an RV and two guys sat by it, talking quietly.

 _He's not going to let me in, is he?_

"Hi there," she said, walking up to the bouncer.

"Yo," he said. His voice was deep, but friendly. "Help you, young miss?"

"I've come to see Firewalk," she said.

"Fire… who?"

"Don't play smart," she said. "I know they're here tonight. Let me in, please?"

"Sorry, miss," he said, shaking his head. "Can't do that."

She fluttered her eyes at him, but he unmoving.

"Sorry miss," he said. "Move along now."

"But it's taken me an hour to get here!" she pouted.

"Then you'd better get going if you want to get back before your bedtime," he grinned. "Sorry miss, I'd like to let you in, but I can't." He looked her up and down. "Nice getup, though," he said.

"Thanks, I guess," she said, grumpily walking away. She sat down by the fire for a few moments, collecting her thoughts.

 _Shit, that didn't go well. But I have to get in._ She looked at the bouncer. _No way past him._ Her gaze travelled around the clearing, past the row of motorcycles, finally landing on… _a side entrance? Is that a door?_

Quickly, quietly, she rose, swiftly heading over to where she thought she could see a door. It _was_ a door, albeit rusty and really old-looking.

 _Damn, I could get tetanus just by looking at it._

She pulled at the door, testing it out, and then, looking around to see if she could be seen (only by the two guys by the RV, but it looked like they'd started a drunken argument), she pulled. With a groan of reluctance, it opened a little way, just enough for her to squeeze through and pull it closed behind her.

 _Yes!_

Immediately, she spotted the bottles of beer by the bar and made for them, grabbing one and cracking it open. Gulping the ice-cold beer down and smacking her lips, she headed through the bar area to the stage proper. The music smashed into her eardrums like an assault, and she screamed with pure pleasure, a scream totally drowned by the music. Forgetting herself, she gave herself over to the moment and danced.

…

Rachel pulled herself to the side of the stage area to cool down and catch her breath. She'd been dancing for around twenty minutes straight and needed a break. She shook her hair to try and clear it from her neck and found a seat on a barrel.

 _Firewalk is just as awesome as everybody says! Man, am I stoked that I got in tonight!_

She looked up and around the stage area. An old sawmill, the whole structure was made from wood, and it even sported a mezzanine floor.

 _Hmm, hadn't seen that coming in. Wonder how you get… wait a minute, who's that?_

Sat on the edge of the mezzanine, legs over the edge and laid back, was a figure. It was definitely a girl, and something about her seemed familiar, but because she was laid back on the floor, Rachel couldn't see her face. But as she looked, she saw two guys that she'd seen by the bar earlier approach.

 _Wait a mo, they don't look kosher._

They approached the girl, who saw them and sprang to her feet.

 _Wait a minute… isn't that Chloe?_

Rachel suddenly recognised the girl from school. It was Chloe, no question about it. And she looked as though things could go south pretty quickly.

 _What's she doing here?_

 _Seriously? What's she doing here? That's a pretty obvious question, Rachel. Dumbass!_

The two guys edged closer, right in Chloe's face.

 _Shit, this could get nasty. I need to even the odds._

She pushed her way out of the stage area, immediately seeing the wooden stairs heading up to the mezzanine. She climbed them quickly, hoping to even the odds. She didn't even consider the danger she could be putting herself in.

At the top of the stairs, she saw the two guys closing in on Chloe. They said something she couldn't quite hear, but the smaller of the two was laughing.

"I'm serious here," yelled Chloe, over the music. This Rachel could hear. "You want to see me get angry? Because I'm getting there, and it won't be pretty. It won't, I promise you that!"

"She thinks she can take you," chuckled the smaller man, and the other guy grinned. In one, heart-stopping moment he smashed a bottle against one of the wooden supports and put his hand to Chloe's throat, pushing her back against another support. He held the broken bottle to her face and leered in at her.

 _Oh Shit! Chloe!_

"Now then, little…"

"Hey, dickhead!" Acting on instinct, Rachel yelled as loud as she could. It had the desired effect, and the taller of the two guys turned, letting go of Chloe's throat as he did so. Taking advantage of the distraction, Chloe knocked the bottle from his hand and brought her knee up, straight into his groin. He groaned once, all the fight promptly taken out of him and fell to the floor, clutching his groin.

"My sack, my fuckin' sack!" he groaned, rolling over and over. His friend took a quick step forward and hurled a left hook at Chloe, connecting solidly with her right cheek. She stumbled across the mezzanine, and Rachel caught her, arresting her fall. Chloe looked up, recognising the girl for the first time.

"Rachel?"

"Come on!" yelled Rachel, taking Chloe's hand. While the guy was still rolling around on the floor, she pulled Chloe and two of them, taking the steps two at a time, hurried back to the ground floor.

"Come on, hurry up," said Rachel, grabbing Chloe and pulling her across the room. Chloe looked back to see Frank watching the two of them with some interest. He noticed the two guys climbing down the stairs with murder in their eyes, and he understood immediately. Stepping in front of them, he prevented them from crossing to where Chloe and Rachel stood.

"Let me go, Frank!" snarled the taller guy.

"Not gonna happen," said Frank, making himself as wide as possible. Neither guy could get past him. "Calm down, both of you." He nodded at them. "Come on, Sheldon, calm down and walk away. No need to take this any further, yeah?"

Both guys stood up to Frank, but when they saw he wasn't backing down, the taller guy shook his head. "Screw this!" he spat, and Rachel smiled.

"Bye," she called, and pulled on Chloe again. As Chloe rounded the corner, she flipped them the finger, laughing as Rachel pulled her straight into the stage area, straight through the crowd to the front of the stage. The music seemed to get louder and more intense as the two girls jumped, moshed and danced the night away, both of them yelling, screaming, singing and generally having the time of their lives.


	6. The morning after the night before

The sound of her phone ringing woke Chloe from her slumber. She opened her eyes slowly, trying to figure out where she was. Her head hurt.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," she mumbled, groaning, rolling over and picking up her phone. Seeing the caller ID, however, jerked her into reality in an instant. With trembling hands, she swiped to answer, and put the phone to her ear.

"Max? Is that you?"

"Hi, um, Chloe." The voice on the other end of the phone was so familiar, and Chloe was instantly overcome by a wave of emotion. She struggled not to cry there and then, but she couldn't speak straight away. "Chloe? Are you there?" asked Max, and Chloe nodded, completely forgetting that Max couldn't see it.

"Hi," croaked Chloe, when she could eventually speak. "Hi, stranger. Fancy seeing you here."

"Look, I'm, um, I'm sorry I haven't rung for so long," said Max.

"You haven't?" said Chloe, sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed."

"Come on, Chloe," said Max. Her voice was unsure, as always, but certainly full of apologies and sincerity. "I know I've been a shit pirate recently. I just… I didn't know what to say."

"About you abandoning me?" said Chloe, trying but failing to keep the anger out of her voice. "Or about Dad abandoning me. I guess you could pick one. Or both. I don't really care."

"Chloe, don't be like that," said Max. "I'm… I know what I did, okay? I'm really trying here. I'm so sorry, for everything. I should have rung sooner, I should have rung more often. I should have been there for you. But I wasn't. And I'm sorry. And I'm begging you for forgiveness. Please, Chloe. I…"

"Save it, Max," said Chloe. "You weren't there for me when I needed you. I mean, I'm happy you've rung now, but I can't go back and change the past, can I? You weren't there when I needed you, and I can't forgive that. Maybe we can move on, but…"

"Oh, don't say that," cried Max, bursting into tears. "I… I really miss you, Chloe. It's not the same here, I don't have any friends, I'm all on my own, and… I'm lonely without you. I miss you so much!"

"Good. Then you know how I feel," said Chloe. "You hurt me, Max, more than you'll ever know. Or care."

"I _do_ care," cried Max. "Chloe, I _do_ care." She paused. "Can we… can we stay friends? Please? I know I'm… well, I'm not there, but you're so important to me."

"Keep ringing me, Max, and we'll see," said Chloe. Her heart was bursting, but she couldn't bring herself to forgive her best friend. Not right now. "We can work on it, for sure."

"You'll ring me, too?" said Max. "I mean, you haven't rung me, either."

"Are you… are you saying it's _my_ fault?" said Chloe.

"No! No, of course not," said Max, quickly. "Just that… oh, never mind."

The conversation was interrupted by the alarm clock bursting into song.

"One sec," said Chloe, reaching across to turn it off. She pressed the button, but the alarm kept ringing. "Hmm." She tried again, but to no avail. "Max?" she said, but her phone was dead. "Max?"

…

"Max?"

Chloe jerked awake to the sound of the alarm clock. Her phone was nowhere to be seen. Tears were running down her face and the pillow was damp.

 _Shit. Again?_

It wasn't uncommon for Chloe to experience that dream and it always left her feeling really down. She rolled over and turned the alarm off; this time it worked and abruptly, the sound ceased. She grabbed her ashtray and lit up, laying back and breathing in the sweet smoke.

 _Sometimes, all I want to do is shut my eyes and tell the world to go to hell._

 _Max, I do miss you, even if you don't miss me. I miss you terribly._

 _Where are you?_

The voice from downstairs broke into her thoughts. "Chloe! Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!"

"Coming, mom," she said, under breath.

 _Last night. Seeing Firewalk live was totally awesome. Those skeevy assholes, though. And that girl. Was that… Rachel Amber? Why was she there? And why did she talk to me? Did it really happen?_

Groaning slightly, she rolled off the bed and stood up, trying to clear her head.

 _Ok, Chloe. Down with the morning rituals. I smell like cigarettes and beer. Probably should change before going downstairs. And where's my phone?_

She stood in front of the wardrobe for several minutes, trying to decide what to put on, then finally decided to go for the Firewalk t-shirt she'd liberated last night. She posed for the mirror and grinned.

 _Nice. Looking good._

"Chloe!" shouted her mother, again. "I said breakfast!"

"Coming, mom!" shouted Chloe, opening her bedroom door, then suddenly stopping.

 _My phone. Where's my phone? Shit, how drunk was I last night?_

She stood there, a moment, thinking.

 _I could phone it from mom's phone…_

Making her mind up, she crossed the landing, closing her door behind her, and entered her mother's bedroom. Her mother's mobile was on the bedside table and she quickly picked it up, unlocked it and phoned her mobile. Listening carefully, she could hear her ringtone, but it was quite faint. She followed the sound to the bathroom and, with a little searching, found it under a towel near the toilet.

 _Gotcha! You can run, but you can't hide! I wonder how many calls I've missed?_

She noticed that there were a couple of texts awaiting her attention.

 _MOM: [Chloe?]_

 _MOM: [Will you be coming home at some point tonight?]_

 _MOM: [Chloe? Will you be home by curfew?]_

 _MOM: [There will be consequences, Chloe Elizabeth Price]_

 _ELIOT: [Spanish test sucked]_

 _ELIOT: [Lucky if I passed]_

 _ME: [aw]_

 _ME: [lo siento]_

 _ELIOT: [No, I think I did okay]_

 _ME: [cool]_

 _ELIOT: [What u up to?]_

 _ME: [Not much, got shit to do later]_

 _ELIOT: [Oh okay, thought we could hang out or something, but it's cool]_

 _ELIOT: [U finish the chem hw?]_

 _ME: [Nope]_

 _ELIOT: [Dude, that's the third time]_

 _ME: [Meh, I already know everything]_

There were the texts to Max, but she didn't want to look at them again. Other than that, no missed calls.

Nothing from Rachel, either. But then, she didn't really expect anything. Last night was fun, to be sure, but a guaranteed one-night only deal.

 _Pity. Last night was actually… rather nice. Especially the walk home. I'd really like…_

"Chloe, breakfast! Bring my purse down with you, please!" Her mother's voice broke into her thoughts.

"Okay, mom!" shouted Chloe, a little aggressively, heading back into her mother's bedroom and looking around. Her purse was set against the dresser, but the ring on the dresser caught Chloe's attention.

 _Wait a moment… isn't that mom's engagement ring? The one I'm supposed to have, if I'm stupid enough to get married?_

She picked it up, looking closely at it. It really was a lovely ring, gold, with a diamond set into the top, but it was what was underneath the ring that had caught her eye. It was a pawn appraisal ticket.

 _Mom's pawning her engagement ring? Why? Are we short of money… or is it for another reason?_

She looked at the ticket. Apparently, the ring only commanded a $300 value.

 _Grade B? Fuck you, Arcadia Pawn. It's worth more than that!_

She picked up the purse and, after another shout from her mother, the phone on the bedside table and headed downstairs. As she did so, her mother looked up from the stove.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said, both smiling and looking stern at the same time, something only mothers are able to manage with any degree of success. "You can put my purse on the dining table. There might still be time for breakfast if you hurry."

"Yes mom," said Chloe, dutifully. She did as she was asked, then headed into the kitchen to face her mother.

 _May as well get it over with sooner rather than later._

Chloe's mother, Joyce, was a smart, middle-aged woman. She spent most of her time working as a waitress in the Two Whales diner, out on the coastal road. Waitress being a kind of a catch-all, as everyone knew she pretty much _was_ the Two Whales. An excellent cook and hostess, she brought her skills home and, even though she hated to admit it, Chloe had had many a delicious meal at her house. Many of them shared with her best friend…

 _Max._

Joyce hadn't taken the death of her husband well. She'd walked noticeably slower since the funeral, although, Chloe noted, she had started to make her bed in the mornings again. That was a start, at least. She was in the kitchen, working over the stove, the smell of breakfast deliciously wafting throughout the ground floor.

"Hi mom," said Chloe, pleasantly, walking over to stand near the kitchen door.

 _Escape route. Check._

"When I send you a text message, Chloe Elizabeth Price, like last night, I expect you to answer and not to ignore me, okay?"

"Mom, you know you can just say 'text', you don't have to say 'message'."

"And leave off with the snark, Chloe, I really don't need…" Joyce looked up and saw Chloe's eye. The punch from the previous night had grown into a beautiful shiner. "Oh, Chloe, what happened to your eye?" she said, horrified, leaning in to look at it. "That looks nasty. Does it hurt?" She reached out to touch it, but Chloe pulled away.

"No big deal, mom," she said, thinking quickly. "I walked into a door, that's all."

"Really. A door," said Joyce. "You walked into a door. Funny that, you seem to be walking into a lot of doors recently. They got something against you? Maybe they came out of nowhere?"

"Yeah yeah," said Chloe. "Don't labour the point, mom. Anyway, I didn't get the texts until now. Was sleeping."

"I see," said Joyce again, and sighed. "Chloe, why do you make it so hard to trust you?"

"Mom?"

"I'm not stupid, Chloe. Walking into a door? Sleeping? First of all, that's the oldest excuse in the book, and also I know you weren't sleeping. Do remember that my bedroom is just across the hall from yours. So you want to try that again?"

To her credit, Chloe looked sheepish. "Sorry mom, I'll… try and do better at replying." She shuffled her feet awkwardly. "Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

"What is it with you and David?" said Joyce. "The subtle art of conversation is lost with the both of you. Always cutting straight to the chase. What happened to 'Good morning Chloe, good morning, mother. Isn't it a lovely day? Yes, it's really nice out. The sun really has the wheat waving. Yes, how nice it all looks.' You know, Chloe, pleasant conversation before school?"

"Ah, yes. School. My favourite thing in the history of ever."

"You used to love to learn."

"Yeah. I used to think drugs were lame, too, mom. Things change."

"Chloe, I wish you wouldn't joke like that," said Joyce, turning to her daughter. "This is serious. It's your future we're talking about here."

"Are you selling your engagement ring, mom?" said Chloe, trying to change the subject.

"My ring?" Joyce pursed her lips, thinking. "Chloe, jewellery gets appraised for lots of reasons. Like insurance, for one."

"Nice dodge, mom."

"How about this… you don't go into my bedroom when I'm not there?"

"How about this…" mimicked Chloe. "You don't ask me to get your damn purse from your bedroom, then?"

"Come on Chloe, let's not fight. I made you breakfast," pleaded Joyce, serving up a plate of eggs and bacon. Chloe looked at it hungrily, but her pride stood in the way, and not for the first time.

"Nah, I'm okay, thanks. I'm not hungry right now, I'll… I'll just grab something later," said Chloe, as her stomach grumbled loudly.

"Really, hon?" said Joyce, smiling. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." She broke into a grin. "Well, you'll like this one. The other day, I made four eggs, two for me and two for David. Then, just before I served them, he says 'so what are you gonna eat?'" She laughed, and turned to her daughter, but Chloe just couldn't bring herself to reciprocate.

"Yeah, I'll like that, huh?" she said, sullenly. "You do realise I hate him, don't you? With every fibre of my being?"

"Chloe! You don't hate him," said Joyce. "Don't say that!"

"I _do_. He's a dickhole. He calls me 'girlie'. I don't like it. He demands respect due to some weird-ass army bullshit. Well, I don't respect him. Respect is earned, not demanded." She paused. "Dad taught me that, remember?" she said, in a small voice.

"Yeah, I remember, hon," said her mother. "But… I wish you and David would give each other a chance. It would make my life a little easier, certainly. Are you sure you won't have some breakfast?" she said, as Chloe's stomach rumbled once more.

"It's okay, mom," said Chloe. "Thanks, though."

"Well, okay," said Joyce, then looked at Chloe's t-shirt. "Firewalk? Isn't that the band you were raving on about last week?"

"Yeah, that's the one," said Chloe. "I'm still bummed you wouldn't let me go."

"Mm-hmm," said Joyce, going back to the breakfast.

"What does that mean?"

"I'm your mother, Chloe. I know exactly what time you came home last night. I also know that's a very nice t-shirt. Looks new."

"I see."

"And don't think you can get out of going to school just because you missed the bus again."

"Um, why would you assume that…"

"Chloe." Joyce put down her utensils and turned back to her daughter, hands on hips. "Who do you think that Principal Wells calls when you skip school?"

"Ummm…" It wasn't often that Chloe was stumped, but this was definitely one of those times. She felt her face redden as she looked at her mother, who, in turn, just raised her eyebrows at her daughter's obvious discomfort.

"Do you think for one minute that I enjoy lying for you, saying you're sick and home with me, just so you don't get expelled?" She paused. "And, just for future reference, I _do_ know what pot smells like." She sighed. "You're an intelligent girl, Chloe. But recently, between you skipping school, your recent grades, your flagrant disregard for my rules, I'm worried about you. I see you slipping."

"But mom, the whole point of lowering your expectations is so you won't _be_ disappointed in me when I fuck up again."

"And watch your language," snapped Joyce, now beginning to get annoyed. "You're happy with the way things are going? Fine. Keep at it." She turned back to the breakfast. "Just let me know so I can stop fighting with Blackwell to keep you on scholarship. Money's tight enough as it is. Anyway," she continued, "David thinks you need more discipline."

"David should mind his own business."

"I think it's great that David's taking an interest, Chloe. He's a good man."

"Dad was a good man, mom."

"That's… that's unfair, Chloe," said Joyce, her voice cracking. "I'm glad your father still has a place in your heart. But sometimes we need to make more room in our hearts for new people."

"And sometimes," said Chloe, "when we're incredibly desperate and lonely, we choose the absolute wrong kind of people to let into our hearts. I guess I'll start walking." She turned to leave, but Joyce stopped her.

"That's not fair, Chloe," she said. "David's had some hard times too, you know. If he's kind enough to share his experience, I expect you to listen to him…"

"Like I'd let him within fifteen feet of me."

"… when he takes you to school today."

"When he takes me to what now?" Chloe did a quick double take. "Oh yeah, very funny mom. Ha ha."

"You will be nice…"

"… you're serious?"

"… and you will be respectful. And you will say thank you."

"Mom! This is such…"

"… such what, Chloe? Such what?" Joyce's voice was dangerously quiet, and Chloe knew she was treading on thin ice. She made a quick decision.

"Okay mom."

"Promise?"

"Really?"

"Promise."

Chloe sighed again. "Okay, mom, I promise."

"Thank you, Chloe," said Joyce, sighing in relief. "I understand you don't need me so much any more. But I'm your mom. I need you. I'm not sure you remember that sometimes."

"I _do_ still need you, mom."

"I'm proud of you, Chloe, for being so self-sufficient. But you have to see that the whole world isn't out to get you."

"Tell that to the world, then."

"You're impossible!" Joyce pursed her lips thoughtfully. "But I love you."

"I love you too, mom."

"Mm-hmm. Okay, David's waiting outside. His keys are in the dining room if you'll take them out. Try not to kill each other, please."

"Got it." Chloe grinned. "Unless he tried to give me advice. Or talks to me. Or looks at me funny."

"Chloe!"

"Or looks at me at all."

"Chloe!"

"Mom."

Joyce sighed in defeat. "Have a good day."

"You too, mom," she said, turning and walking into the dining room. David's car keys were in the ashtray on the side. She picked them up and quickly looked back. Joyce had her back turned.

 _Money's tight, is it?_

Quickly, she picked up Joyce's purse and slipped most of the money she'd taken from the t-shirt vendor inside.

"You're welcome," she muttered, putting the purse back on the dining table. She headed down the hallway and opened the door, pausing when her phone bleeped. It was Steph.

 _STEPH: [Hey Chloe, I've got your DVD. Come find me before school and you can have it. Well, the DVD anyway. Ha!]_

 _CHLOE: [Cool! Where will you be?]_

 _STEPH: [That's for me to know, and you to find out]_

 _CHLOE: [What?]_

 _STEPH: [It's a quest]_

 _CHLOE: [Sigh]_

 _STEPH: [Ready?]_

 _CHLOE: [Do we have to?]_

 _STEPH: [Yeah! It's fun]_

 _CHLOE: [You and I have very different ideas about what's fun, Steph. Go on then]_

 _STEPH: [Here's your clue. Some mornings I go to school on my bike, but this morning you'll find me playing RPGs with Mike]_

 _CHLOE: [That's it?]_

 _STEPH: [Well… yeah]_

 _CHLOE: [That's lame]_

 _STEPH: [Hey! I had to think up something on the spot!]_

 _CHLOE: [Ok, ok, keep your hat on. I'll catch you soon. Just leaving]_

 _STEPH: [Later]_

Chloe smiled and put the phone away. "Bye mom!" she called, before heading out and shutting the door behind her.


	7. The School Bus

The bird sat on the cables opposite the house, watching serenely as Chloe closed the front door behind her, turned and cautiously approached her mother's boyfriend, David Madsen.

To say that Chloe didn't appreciate David's presence in her (and her mother's) life would be something of an understatement. A quick look in her journal would reveal her true thoughts:

 _"But lately there's a hairy dick monster she let into the house that's fucking everything up. David Madsen, a jobless, brainless, dickless little shit with a hard-on for the military and a promise to 'whip me into shape'. Asshole. I've tried to express these… concerns… to my mom, yet every week it seems the virus spreads to yet another corner of her life. I'm starting to worry that the David flu is the kind of disease that kills its hosts."_

She'd had arguments, flaming rows with him, all of which usually ended with her swearing and storming off (because Joyce always took David's side of things), but still he was there, trying to ingratiate himself into her life. He even had the audacity to try and discipline her, with some bullshit army discipline crap.

 _It's not right._

 _It's not fair._

 _He's not dad, he shouldn't be parasiting himself around mom._

 _Or me._

But she'd promised her mother, and, although most people didn't understand it, she very rarely broke promises.

 _Better get this over with._

 _Remember, it only hurts if you fight it._

 _…_

She approached David's car, a blue muscle car with far more engine and power than it deserved.

 _Stupid car. Is he compensating for something? Hi, my name's David and I have the world's smallest dick! Pleased to meet you. Want a ride?_

 _Fuck!_

The bonnet was raised, and David, a tall, lean, fit man with a pencil moustache and shaved hair, a remnant of his military days, was bent over, looking intently at the engine. He looked up as she approached, then looked at his watch and shook his head.

"Why do you women always take forever to get ready?" he asked, pursing his lips in annoyance.

"Usually because we're hoping that you'll leave without us," Chloe retorted quickly. "Here." She tossed the keys to David, who caught them easily, putting them in his back pocket and motioning for Chloe to approach closer.

 _No mom, I swear he beat himself to death with a tyre iron. Repeatedly. He was fine one moment, the next he just grabbed it and started hitting it with his head. There was nothing I could do._

David looked up as she neared, then he frowned.

"Chloe, is that a black eye?"

"No," she said, quickly. "I… walked into a door."

"Insubordination," he said, looking back down at the car. "No wonder your mother's worried about you."

"Ah, that's sweet, David," she said. "I'm so glad you worry about me."

"When I was your age, I got into my share of scrapes too," he said. "But it's not responsible. You owe it to your mother to do better, you really do. She's been through a tough time."

"She's been through a tough time?" said Chloe. "What, and I haven't?"

"Chloe, things aren't always about you," said David. "Yes, I know you've had a hard time recently, but so has your mother." He paused. "She's a wonderful person; she's very strong and resilient, you know."

"Oh yes, I _have_ noticed," said Chloe. "I do know her better than you do."

"I know that, Chloe," David continued. "The thing is, it doesn't matter how mentally resilient you are, everyone has their breaking point. You do, I do, and your mother does, too. And I know she worries sick about you. She tries not to show it."

"And?"

"And I worry about her," said David. "I know you don't think so, but I _do_ care about her. And you." He sighed. "And I know you're driving your mother to distraction."

"I'd appreciate it if you got out of my face," said Chloe, her temper quickly rising. "I don't get in your face, and I'd like you stay out of mine."

"Chloe, I don't want to fight," he said. "I'm having enough trouble from the car." He sighed. "Electrode insulator's probably cracked. You know what a spark plug does?" He nodded towards the engine, then looked back at Chloe expectantly.

"I do."

He pointed at the engine. "It ignites the…"

"Did you not hear me, David? I said I know what it does."

"Okay, okay," said David. "I heard you. In that case, please could you go and grab my socket wrench from the garage over there and we can get moving." When Chloe didn't move, he continued. "Now would be good."

"So what… I'm your gopher now?"

"Just get it," growled David, then, catching himself, "please."

Chloe walked reluctantly towards the garage, swinging her arms petulantly. She was quite aware of how she looked, but she didn't care.

 _Fucking… David._

Going into the garage, she was hit by the same wave of…. sadness (?) that she always had. The garage was her father's domain. He and his old DIY projects, his box of tools, his junk that was scattered all over the…

 _Hey! What the…_

It was tidy.

More than that, it was…

 _Not Dad._

 _This isn't Dad._

Gone were the piles of junk, tidied into a couple of boxes stacked neatly to one side. The other side was home to…

 _What's David's stuff doing here? Does he think he's moving in or something? Fuck no!_

There was a lot of stuff that Chloe didn't recognise, stacked in boxes but also unloaded on to the floor in the centre of the garage area. A large, blue toolcase, the sort with multiple layers, drawers and cabinets for sorting tools out, lay pride of place in the middle. She quickly opened it and rerieved what looked like the socket wrench set from inside. It was quite heavy.

 _I've no idea, officer. It just, sort of, happened. The wrench jumped out of my hand and he sort of heat-butted it. Seven times. Couldn't tell you how it happened. Couldn't stop it, neither._

She took a quick look around some of her father's boxes, noticing that his old camera, a beige Polaroid instant camera, dusty and lonely, sat on one of the shelves.

 _Pfft. Load of crap. Do they even make film for this anymore? Who'd want to even use one? Everything's digital now, isn't it?_

 _Film cameras are stupid. So is anyone that uses them._

She walked back out to where David was still looking at the car.

 _Seriously? He asks me to go get his stuff and then does fuck all except watch me get it? What is the fucking point?_

She looked at the socket wrench.

 _Fifty-fifty I smash his face in with this. Sixty-forty. Maybe ninety-ten._

"Ah, there you are," said David, noticing Chloe returning. "A little more hustle wouldn't have killed you, you know."

"Bite me," muttered Chloe. David reached out for the wrench, but she quickly moved her hand away, grinning. Her grin faded quickly when she saw his face and she handed over the wrench. David took it without a word and turned back to the car.

"See what's gunking up the works there?" he said, pointing to the engine. "That's a sign of…"

"… carbon deposits," finished Chloe, to David's surprise. "No shit."

"You know," said David, raising his eyebrows, "you could actually be good at this if you studied and had less of the attitude."

"My attitude is what makes me special, David."

"Right. Special."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," said David quickly, going back to fixing the car, finishing quickly now that he had the wrench. Once he was done, he closed the bonnet and offered his fist to Chloe.

"Yeah.. whatever," said Chloe, bumping her fist into his and immediately wiping her hand on her jeans. She watched as David took the socket wrench kit back into the garage and placed it carefully inside the toolbox, taking the toolbox off the ground and putting it on a table in the corner of the garage.

"Hey, you're taking those tools with you, right?" called Chloe, her eyebrows creasing.

 _He'd better not be…_

"Every house needs a good toolbox, Chloe," said David, "I'm sure you know that already."

"Yeah, but we've already got one, thanks, David," she replied. David looked over at William's old toolbox and then back at Chloe, eyebrows raised.

"You mean that one?" he said. "No offence, but that's not a toolbox, is it?" He laughed, but Chloe wasn't having any of it.

"Offence taken, it was my dad's," she said, ice creeping into her voice. "You disrespecting him, David?"

To his credit, David immediately realised his faux-pas and backed off. "Not at all, Chloe," he said, hands raised. "Look, that was out of order, I'm sorry." He nodded. "I didn't mean any disrespect."

"Good," said Chloe. "As long as we've got that sorted." David nodded and got into the car, followed by Chloe. He started the car after making sure Chloe buckled her seatbelt and but then turned in his seat to face her.

 _Please don't want to talk, please don't want to talk, please don't…_

"Chloe, I think we should talk."

 _Fuck!_

 _Fuck again!_

"What is it, David?" said Chloe. "Is this going to take a long time?"

"You will respect me, young lady," said David, turning to look at her. "Look, we don't have to like each other, I know that. I'd like to have a relationship with you…"

"You what? Fuck off, you pervert! Wait 'til I tell mom that…"

"Chloe, not that kind of relationship," growled David, shaking his head, "and you know very well what I'm talking about. I'd like to be able to talk to you, do things with you, you know."

"Yeah well, keep dreaming," said Chloe, sullenly.

"You will respect me, Chloe," said David. "That's a given. I know that losing your father is difficult…"

"You know, do you?" said Chloe, turning on him. "You know all about it? You've been through that, have you? Where you say goodbye to your dad while he goes to pick up your mom, and he never comes home? Where you get a knock on the door by two policeman asking to speak to your mom? You know all about that?"

"Well, not exactly, Chloe, but…"

"David, you know I love our little chats together," said Chloe, "but I wish you'd stop trying to get into my head. You don't know what I've been through, you have no idea. And don't tell me you can 'imagine', because you fucking can't, okay?"

"You are way out of line, young lady," growled David. "Watch your language around me."

"Or what, David?" said Chloe. "Here's some language for you. Je m'appelle don't give a shit."

"Yeah, whatever," he growled. "Look, Joyce is… your mother… she's hurting, okay? She cares about you, she loves you, and she can see you falling off the rails. Okay, you're right, I don't understand how you feel, but I _do_ know you've had it rough these last couple of years. But you really need to reign yourself in, Chloe. These late nights, ignoring your mother, the drinking, the drug use? And yes, believe me when I say I know _exactly_ how weed smells. And I can smell it upstairs." He sighed. "Chloe, it's making things harder for you, and for your mother. You need to take a good long look at yourself, shape up, get your act together, however you want to do it. Think about your mother for a damn change."

"Yeah right."

"Am I making myself clear?"

"Crystal. Just so you know, your fake-ass concern can go shit a dick, okay?"

David sighed again. "That's exactly what I mean. That sort of talk would get you assigned hard labour duty for a month in the army."

"Funny, I don't remember enlisting," said Chloe. "I'm not a soldier. You can't order me around like a fucking recruit, got it?"

David shook his head. "If you were a man, I'd…"

"You'd what, David? You know what? It's cool, dude. If you were a man, I wouldn't go so easy on you, either."

"Waste of time," muttered David.

"What was that?" Chloe sensed victory.

"Never mind. I don't know why I bother trying."

"Neither do I, David," said Chloe, smiling. "Glad we got it sorted." She leant back in her seat and closed her eyes as he pulled out of the drive.

…

"… sitting out here listening to the wind / I just called to tell you that I miss you, my old friend / burning the midnight oil again…"

 _What the…_

"… last year we bought a house outside of Boulder / you know how Kathy always missed that rocky mountains sky / she said 'let's move before my folks get any older / so they can see the grandkids grow up for a while'…"

 _Country music? That's…_

Chloe opened her eyes to a familiar, but unexpected scene.

"… I was just thinking of the days we ran together / travellin' 'cross the country in that rusty camper van / playing one night stands seems like it's been forever / sittin' here like this sometimes I miss the band…"

The car had changed. And, actually, so had other things. She was sitting in the back seat, for one. The light was bright, for another. And not just bright, but _really_ bright. Like, headache-if-you-look-at-it-too-long bright. And the country music kept playing. She recognised the tune, and then she looked around the car, and her gaze fell on…

 _Dad?_

Suddenly it all came crashing back. She was in her father's old car, and he was driving, singing along with the music. There was a socket wrench in the seat pocket in front of her, and, oddly, even though William was driving the car, it looked far more that the car was standing still, and the scenery outside was moving past them.

 _I'm dreaming. Right?_

 _I must be dreaming. This can't be real. Can it?_

"Dad?"

William turned to look at his daughter. "Hi hon," he said, his warm, familiar, loving voice causing Chloe to well up inside. "How are you doing today?"

"Dad?" Chloe's voice began to crack.

"Whoa now, honey," said William. "No need to get upset, is there? No need at all. So how _are_ you doing?"

"I'm okay, I guess," she said.

"Good," said William. "That's good to hear. I'm glad you're doing okay, Chloe." He turned back to the front. "I'd hate to think that you were struggling." He started singing again, his voice horribly off-key, but Chloe started giggling in spite of the tears that were still threatening. She looked out of the window and hung her arm out, feeling the cold breeze on her arm. She sat back and basked in the bright orange sunlight, and the warmth that was radiating from it, and her father.

A few minutes later, she sat forward. "Dad?" she said, but he didn't answer, concentrating on the road ahead. She looked to her left, to see her mother's purse, and a photograph inside it. She took it out, and frowned.

 _This isn't right._

It was a photograph she'd seen hundreds of times before, the one her mother used to keep by her bedside. The one of William, Joyce and Chloe, happy, worry-free.

Except it wasn't William in the photograph. It was David.

 _Hey, that's not… David isn't in that photo! What the fuck is going on?_

"Picking up my lover from the grocery store," sang William, and Chloe snapped back to reality. She scooted forward in the seat.

"Dad?" she said, with more urgency. "Dad?" He didn't hear, or wasn't listening, and continued driving. " _Dad!_ " she screamed, as the truck appeared from nowhere and slammed into the car.

Time stopped.

No, not completely stopped, just slowed to a crawl.

Chloe looked to her left. The driver's side door was beginning to buckle from the impact; the front of the truck had hit the car right where William was sitting. She could see that he had no chance.

All was quiet.

Unable to look away, Chloe continued to look, horrified as she saw the door buckle further as the front of the truck inched its way inexorably into the car.

There was a quiet rumbling, together with a continuous rush of air that screeched and whistled. Chloe could feel the pressure of the air building in her eardrums as the truck continued to slowly but deliberately crumple the car. The pressure in her ears was beginning to hurt as Chloe saw her father turn his head to the left, but it was too late.

The pressure was really hurting now, reaching breaking point and Chloe began to scream in pain. The whooshing and whistling of the air became louder and louder until suddenly, time crashed back in and Chloe felt her whole body shattering from the impact as all went dark…

…

"Hey!"

Chloe awoke with a start, nearly bumping her head on the door frame.

"Yeah, I'm…" She looked around, consciousness slowly returning, "… here."

"Good," said David. "I knew you were out late. You fell asleep, didn't you?"

"Asleep? Me?" Chloe shook her head, wincing slightly as she hadn't fully woken up. "I rested my eyes for a few moments, that's all."

"Well, off you go," said David. "You're going to be late, otherwise."

"Nah, I've got plenty of time before class starts," said Chloe. "I could stay here and chat, if you want. Or do you have to get to work? Oh no," she said, slapping her forehead. "I forgot. You don't have a job, do you?"

"Don't Chloe," said David, sighing, "just… go to school, please."

"Yeah, whatever, David," she said, grinning and jumping out of the car. "Catch you… well, whenever, I guess." Before he could retort, she closed the door and headed up the stairs to Blackwell.


	8. Blackhell

Blackwell Academy was the premier high school for the area, serving Arcadia Bay for over 100 years. Currently led by Principal Ray Wells, it specialised in Science and Arts and was founded in 1910 by Jeremiah Blackwell, built on old Native American land. It was Jeremiah's likeness that overlooks the campus (the statue by the fountain). Sporting the motto 'The future needs excellence', it was now partially owned and funded by the Prescott family, local businessmen and overall rich people.

It was a necessary evil.

"Hello, Blackhell," muttered Chloe, as she headed up the steps to the campus proper. At the top, a boy was leaning against a post, reading. He saw Chloe, and put the book down, approaching her.

"Hey Chloe."

"Hi there, Eliot," said Chloe, stopping to talk to the boy. One of the few people that took the time to speak with her, Eliot Hampden was a bit of an enigma. Then again, he went to Blackwell. Kinda went with the territory. "What's up?"

"Nothing much. Just reading this," he said, proffering the book to her, but she refused. Then he actually looked at her. "My word, what happened to your face, Chloe?"

"Oh this?"

"Yeah. Did you get into some kind of trouble? Should I take you to the nurse?" Eliot looked genuinely concerned.

"Nah, it's okay, Eliot, thanks," said Chloe, taking a small step backwards. "It's just a shiner, no biggie." She grinned. "Totally worth it. You should see the other guy!"

"I heard you had a hell of a night."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, people are talking about it."

"About me?" Chloe frowned. "Who'd be talking about me?"

"Well, pretty much everyone."

Chloe felt her blood run cold. "But I haven't done anything! Are they talking good or bad?"

"Well, you know."

"Eliot, tell me. Who exactly is talking shit about me?"

"Oh, the usual, you know. Haters, Idiots, those sort. All on social media. Rachel posted about the two of you last night. Look at this." He showed Chloe his phone, and Chloe saw herself and Rachel glaring at the camera. It was one of the many selfies she'd taken last night, and Chloe couldn't help but smile.

 _Not bad at all, even if I do say so myself._

 _Was a good evening. Hell, it was a_ great _evening. One of the best._

"Look, they're just jealous they weren't there," she said. "Nothing they say can take away from how awesome last night actually was. Next time they're in town, I'm _so_ there."

"So…" Eliot paused, and Chloe looked at him, expectantly.

"And with Rachel Amber?"

"Yeah. So what?"

"Well, I mean…"

Chloe sighed. "Eliot, spit it out. You obviously have something to say."

"Well, I was just wondering. I mean…"

"About what?"

"You and Rachel."

"What about me and Rachel? And, for someone who's such a stickler for the proper way, shouldn't it be Rachel and I?" She smiled as she said this, but Eliot ignored the grammatical correction.

"Well, are you… you know."

"No, I don't know. _What is it, Eliot?_ " she said, losing her patience.

"Well, you know… together."

"Me and Rachel?" laughed Chloe. "No, we're just… I don't know what we are, actually. We just shared an awesome evening at Firewalk together."

"Oh good. It's just…"

"Yes?"

"I was thinking, The Tempest."

"What about it?"

"Well, it's on tomorrow evening."

"That's very observant of you, Eliot," she said, pointing to the noticeboard with the poster of the production of The Tempest plastered all over it.

"Look, I know it's gonna be lame, but I was thinking, maybe we could go together?"

"Together?"

"Yeah, like you and me?"

"I know what 'together' means, numbnuts," smirked Chloe. "I dunno. I guess, it _could_ be fun to sit at the back and talk shit about the drama kids."

"Yeah, that's like, totally what I was thinking," said the boy, eagerly, obviously not really listening to what Chloe was saying. "I can pick you up around…"

"Whoa, hold your horses, slick," said Chloe, holding up her hands. "I haven't said I'll go yet, and you're already planning the wedding?" She paused, and totally failed to notice Eliot begin to blush. "Let me think about it for a bit, okay? Text me later on, okay?"

"Totally gotcha," said Eliot. "Want me to walk you in?"

"Thanks, but I got this," said Chloe. "I know that way, thanks all the same. I'll see you in chem later."

"Yeah, for sure!" He went back to reading his book and Chloe walked away, searching to see if she could see Steph. She couldn't quite see her signature beanie, but she did see someone walking over to her.

"Hey Skip," she called, and he nodded. He was site security but was one of the other people to actually make time to talk to Chloe. He headed over and looked Chloe up and down.

"Nice shirt," he said. "I love Firewalk."

"Yeah, never guess where I got it from," she said, and Skip's eyes widened.

"No way!" he said, and Chloe nodded.

"Yup," smiled Chloe, nonchalantly. "You know it."

"You were at the mill?"

"I was. I caught Firewalk. Live. Like, live. Like, I was there, watching them."

"Ah, that's awesome," sighed Skip. "I'd have loved to have been there."

"Why didn't you?"

He sighed again. "I'm not as hip as you, Chloe," he said. "I didn't find out about it until this morning. Too late."

"Bummer," she said, laughing. "Hey, you stopped any gang wars lately?"

Skip laughed. "Not today, Chloe, although I _did_ ask Justin's mom to move Mercedes out of the disabled parking."

"My god! That's, that's like an original sin, isn't it?" said Chloe.

"A what now?"

"It's a catholic thing," explained Chloe, "although I always thought an original sin was like poking a badger with a spoon. I mean, that's pretty original, nah?"

"You've lost me," laughed Skip. "But I'm in a band, actually."

"Serious?"

"Yeah, for real. We're called Pisshead. I mean, it's not a big deal or anything, I mean, we're trying to… what? What's so funny?" Chloe was doubled over, wiping tears from her eyes.

"You're called… Pisshead?" she fairly screamed, unable to control herself. "Ha ha ha, that's brilliant." She continued laughing, and Skip's face fell.

"You… don't like it?" he said.

Once Chloe had calmed down, she shook her head. "I love it! It's brilliant, dude!" she said. "That's like, totally unforgettable. I mean, there are so many… " she doubled up laughing again, to Skip's annoyance, "… names out there, you could have called yourselves ShitWank, or FluffyBunny, or anything, but PissHead. Fuck yeah!"

"Um, okay," said Skip, clearly bamboozled. "Would you… you know, since you like that sort of music, would you mind if I played you our demo. We've been working on it a while, would be nice to get someone else's perspective."

"Sure thing," said Chloe, "I've got a couple of minutes before I need to meet Steph, wherever she is."

"Steph Gingrich?" said Skip, nodding over by the tables. "She's over there, playing with Mikey."

"Ah cool, dude, thanks," said Chloe. "May I?" Skip passed her his phone and she listened to the music for a couple of minutes, nodding head and closing her eyes. "Ah yeah, man," she said, once the music had finished and she'd handed the phone back to Skip. "I like that," she said, nodding again. "If Piss… if PissHead ever came on the radio, I'd totally turn that shit up."

"Ah, awesome, Chloe," said Skip, a big smile appearing on his face. "Thanks."

"No worries, dude." She looked at her watch. "Probably ought to go find Steph. Catch you later, man." Chloe started over towards the tables, where Skip had said Steph was, but she hadn't managed more than three steps when she heard her name called. It was the science teacher, Ms Grant.

"Hi Ms Grant," said Chloe.

"Good morning, Chloe," said the teacher, smiling. She was one of the few teachers that Chloe actually gave a damn about. "You okay? That looks nasty."

"Ah yeah, it's nothing. Damn door," said Chloe, not believing for one minute that the teacher would actually believe her.

"Yeah, those doors can come out of nowhere," said Ms Grant. "But that's not why I'm here. I was just wondering about a hypothesis of mine."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I was thinking off the odds that, you know, hypothetically, you'll be in your seat by the time chemistry class begins today?"

"Chem? I love chem, Ms Grant," said Chloe. "I'll be there. I wouldn't miss it for all the manganese in the world."

"Your sincerity's overwhelming, Chloe," said her teacher, dryly.

"No, I mean it, miss," she said. "I'll be there."

"Good. With all the changes that's happening here lately, I suppose I can appreciate your consistent wit, at least."

"Changes?"

"Well, you've heard about our new… benefactors, I suppose?"

"You mean the Prickscotts?"

"I'll excuse your language this time, Chloe," said the teacher, "but yes. The Prescotts. Well, Sean, have made an extremely generous donation to the school, which is great, I guess, but it won't go to support more science and mathematics, no, it's all going towards the arts."

"You guess? I thought all schools hoover up money like it's going out of fashion."

"Any donation is good Chloe, you're right, but I'm afraid that we're becoming too reliant on a single family. It's never good to keep all your eggs in one basket, Chloe, remember that."

"I will, Ms Grant, thanks. Anyway, think about it like this: more money to the arts means less smug, stupid assheads in your science class."

"I see, Chloe. Articulate as always," said Ms Grant, but she was smiling.

"I know, Ms Grant, I've been told I have a way with words."

"I cannot for the life of think by whom," said the teacher, still smiling. "Well, thanks Chloe. I'll see you later, I hope."

"Thanks, miss," said Chloe, heading off to where Steph sat. She could see her signature beanie now. She was sat with Mikey, younger brother of Drew, and they were playing some sort of tabletop game.


	9. Elamon vs Durgy Ron

"If I'd have known the celestial avenger was bloodied," Mikey was saying as Chloe approached, "I'd have totally given him my healing potion." Mikey was animated, jumping up from his seat and swinging his arms. By contrast, Steph was sat, behind a series of sheets and books arranged into a wall in front of her. "It was the least I could do. Especially after…"

"Really? A potion?" she interrupted, coyly. "It was a skill challenge, Mikey. A Potion wouldn't have worked."

"Yeah, I totally knew that," said Mikey, sitting back down. "That's why I didn't go for it. Elamon the wise, that's me."

"North, you're so full of shit," giggled Steph, then, noticing Chloe approaching, "Hi Chloe."

"Hi Steph," said Chloe, walking up to them. "HI Mikey." She looked around at the various fantasy paraphernalia arranged on the table. "Skill challenge?"

"It's part of the tabletop game we play," said Steph, nodding at the table.

"Yeah, you wouldn't understand, it's…" said Mikey, quickly, but Chloe interrupted.

"Really, Mikey? I used to play, you know," said Chloe, "with my friend Max, when we… when she was here," and then, quickly changing the subject, "got my DVD, dude?"

"Yeah," said Steph, reaching into her bag and pulling out a jewel case, "here you go. One Bladerunner Director's Cut coming right up."

"Ah, sweet. Five bucks, right?" Chloe reached into her pocket, but Steph waved her down.

"Keep it," said Steph. "I'm just glad that someone appreciates the classics. I mean, you even asked for the Director's cut, which took out that shitty voice over and replaced it with a sweet dream sequence."

"Dream on. Dream life over real life?"

"Something like that."

"I was wondering about the Final Cut, to be honest. I know it's the only one that Scott actually had creative freedom over, but I'm not sure of the difference."

"It's basically a remaster more than anything, I think, although I have heard there are… well, I can't… spoilers. To be honest, it's been on my watch list for a while, but I've never really got around to watching it. I'll let you know if it's worth watching."

"Ah okay, well, I'll see what this one's like. Ma… my friend and I used to like watching it. Before she went away."

"Ah, I'm sorry about that Chloe," said Steph. "But you've made new friends, right?"

"Yeah, about that…" said Chloe, a little awkwardly.

"Hey, Chloe," said Steph, suddenly. "Do you know if Rachel's a gamer?"

"Rachel… Rachel Amber?"

"Yeah."

"You're asking me?"

"Well, didn't the two of you go out last night?"

"Why do you want to know?"

At this, Mikey broke out laughing. "Steph has a cru-u-ush!"

"Shut up, Mikey!" snapped Steph, and then, to Chloe, "I just wondered, that's all. So you _are_ just friends?"

"Yeah, like, I didn't know she was there last night. It's not like we went there together or nothing."

"Cool." Steph and Mikey exchanged a quick glance and Mikey nodded almost imperceptibly. "Would you… like to join our game?"

"I'd love to," said Chloe, "but like, I don't have fifty hours to spare at the moment. So little to do, so much time. No wait," she circled her hands, "take that, switch it around. Got it?"

"Ha ha, like you're Willy Wonka," said Steph.

"Hey, well done!" Chloe grinned. "That's worth at least fifty points. Not an easy one at all."

"You don't have to worry, we're at the end of a campaign," she said, "you don't need fifty hours. Like twenty minutes? You've got that before class, right?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," said Chloe, taking a seat next to Mikey. "What the hell. Game on, nerds." She grinned. "Who am I? What am I? Am I someone cool, like some awesome godlike half-deity with a big fuck-off hammer? Or the one-eyed shagster which had to cut out his own eye to escape from the diabolical trap that his nemesis had caught him in. Or maybe I'm…"

"Okay, quiet time now," said Steph. "It's my turn to speak." She cleared her throat and adopted a narrative voice. "The Kingdom of Avernon was a peaceful land, lush green pastures and rolling hills. A veritable paradise to live in. However, two months ago the bloodthirsty Raiders of the Black Well laid waste to this land, riding in, murdering at random, taking anything they wanted: suppliers, resources, women, children. Disgusted by this, you decide to do something about it. 'No more!' you shouted, to the void. Alone, you have fought your way to the raider camps, seeking their leader, the one known as Duurgaron the Unscarred. You enter the camp on foot, tired and battle-scarred after your hard-fought campaign. Ahead of you, you see a figure approaching from the opposite direction. That's you," she whispered to Chloe.

Mikey stood up and puffed out his chest. "I raise my staff to you in greeting, fair traveller," he said, replacing his normal voice with one much deeper. "'I am Elamon, wizard of the third circle, foremost advisor to Tiberius, exalted King of Kirk... I mean, of Avernon, and sworn defender of these fair lands.'"

Chloe giggled. "Kirk?" she said, and Mikey reddened as Steph handed her a character sheet. Chloe looked down at the sheet and raised her eyebrows.

"'Ho'," she said, raising her right hand. "I'm an… " she lowered her voice conspiratorially, "an elf barbarian?"

"Yeah," said Steph.

"'I'm… Barb, the elf barbarian'," said Chloe, and Mikey snorted into his drink.

"No, no, no, Steph, come on," he said, but his protests were waved away.

"Give… Barb… a chance, okay?" she said, and Mikey sighed.

"Uh, hi, uh… Barb," said Mikey.

"The two heroes…" began Steph, but she was cut off by Mikey.

"Hold on a moment," he said. "Elamon narrows his eyes at the elf in front of him. 'I am here to defeat Duurgaron the Unscarred in the name of King Tiberius of Avernon. What makes you think you are worthy to fight alongside me?'"

Chloe looked down at her character sheet, then grinned. "Says here that I taught your previous King Kirk everything he knows, including his signature dance move. 'So Elamon, what makes you think you are worthy to fight alongside me?'"

"You gave her _that_ elf barbarian, Steph?" whispered Mikey.

"Yup."

"Shit. 'Okay, Barb,'" he said, raising his voice again. "'I have heard of you in the castle. King Tiberius owes you his life, although we in the castle really wish you hadn't taught him that dance move.'" Here Mikey shook his head dramatically. "'He won't stop it. I mean, it's _all_ the time now. He's even using it as a greeting.'" Chloe smiled at the improvisation. "'It will be my honour and privilege to fight alongside you.'"

"'Damn straight,'" said Chloe. "'Now, let's get going. I feel the urge to twat something.'" She ignored Steph's giggles. "'Lead on, bwana.'"

"You stand at a crossing of the ways. Ahead of you lies an enormous, ostentatious tent that could only belong to Duurgaron the Unscarred…"

"Let's get him," said Chloe, eagerly, but Mikey waved her down.

"Wait, let's see our other options," he said. "There could be some good loot."

"Good point," conceded Chloe. "Loot is always good, except when it's shit."

"… while to your left, what looks like the raiders' training ground. Away to your right, their prison camp."

"Still say twat the Durgy guy," said Chloe.

"'Surely, it's our duty to free the prisoners,'" said Mikey. "'King Tiberius would surely be pleased at the freedom of his citizens.'"

"'Agreed,'" said Chloe. "'King Kirk already owes me one, after I set him up with that perky… ahem, but enough of that. Now I can up the stakes. Let's free the prisoners.'" Mikey giggled and Chloe smiled back.

 _This is actually kinda cool._

"Okay. You walk up to the Prison Camp," said Steph, looking down at her notes. "It's kind of a field, really. Large cages dot the landscape, standing there like Easter Island figures, watching you approach. Each cage holds a human prisoner, all calling to you for help."

"Are there any guards I can twat?" said Chloe.

"You behold a single guard, an elderly dragonkin. He looks up as you approach and, in terror, bounds into one of the few empty cages and locks himself inside."

"Shit," said Mikey. "Now what?"

"Aww, poor wittle guy," said Chloe. "Um, what's a dragonkin?"

"Dragonkin are like little dragon people," said Mikey. "They're basically assholes. I bet he has all the keys."

"Oh, okay," said Chloe. "I walk up to the cage. 'Hey shithead! Get out of there!'"

"The dragonkin hops up and down, jabbering in some strange language. He shakes a large ring of keys at you."

"What's he saying?"

"You don't understand him."

"Elamon, got anything useful in that robe of yours?"

"Nothing that wouldn't blow up the cage and everything in it."

"Alohamora?"

Steph looked at Chloe. "Alohamora?" she said, dryly. "Really? Crossover much?"

"Could've worked," said Chloe, trying to hide a smirk. "I mean, he _is_ a wizard. And a thumping good 'un, I guess. Specially now he's been trained up a bit."

"Okay, okay!" said Steph, laughing. "He doesn't know that spell, _because it doesn't exist in this world_!"

"Intimidate. That's a skill I have," said Chloe, looking at her character sheet. "I can do that, right? I want to make the little bastard shit his pants."

"You can try. What do you say?"

"Um, 'listen up, you little shit…'"

"Unfortunately," said Steph, grinning evilly, "he doesn't speak Common, which means he can't understand a word that…"

"I cast Communication on the dragonkin," said Mikey, triumphantly.

"Shit, really?" said Steph, her face falling.

"Now he can understand you, um, Barb," said Mikey. "Over to you."

"So this is a skill challenge," said Steph, looking at Chloe. "What you need to do is…"

"I know what this is," said Chloe. "I grab the bars of the cage and lean in, nice and close."

"He steps back, his scaly skin quivering in fear. What do you say?"

"'Hi there, little dragonkin guy,'" said Chloe, in a low and very steady voice. "'Would you like a special prize? You could become my meat puppet. Yeah. It's sooo easy. All _you_ do is nothing. All _I_ do is shove my hand and arm so far up your ass into your head, that I can control your mouth from the inside. Sound like fun?'"

"He doesn't seem to like that idea," said Steph.

"Neither do I," said Mikey, screwing up his mouth. "Ew, really, Chloe, I mean, Barb?"

"The dragonkin pleads with you. 'Please don't harm me, o great and tall one. I cannot give you key. Duurgaron much taller and meaner than you. Will make you meat puppet.'"

"'I don't think so. Perhaps we can stay here and wait it out. You look half dead already, dude. Old age's a bitch, ain't it?'"

"He is undaunted. 'I will eat your face, elven garbage lady', he squeals."

"Elven garbage lady?" said Mikey.

"Eat. My. Face?" said Chloe, looking at Steph, who shrugged in defence.

"I'm trying," she said. "I had to come up with something quick."

"I show him my fist," said Chloe. "'I call this the ripper, little dude, you know why? Because it's really good for reaching down dragonkin throats and ripping our dragonkin stomachs.'"

"The little dragonkin considers your words as he cowers with fear before you. He looks left, then he looks right…"

"'… careful, Barb,'" said Mikey.

"… then he opens his jaws, as if he's about to yell for help…"

"… I interrupt his yell by shoving my axe into the cage, pinning his head to the bars without hurting him. Then I say the following…"

"… oh, this is gonna be good…" said Mikey.

"… 'here's what's going to happen, little man. I'm going to carve the skin from your bones. Then, I'm going to fashion and nice little cute leather handbag that I'll shove your skinless body into, so I can carry it around with me wherever I go. That way, the next time total shitwank refuses to give me a key,'" at this point Chloe slammed her hand onto the table, causing the map and figures to jump into the air, "'I can pull your body out of the cute bag and _show_ them what happens when I don't get what I want.'"

"Holy… holy shit!" exclaimed Mikey. Steph, to her credit, looked physically ill.

"That's… that's fucked up," she said, quietly, swallowing hard.

"'And you know what else? If you decide not to help me and do something _monumentally_ stupid, like, say, swallow the key, I'm going to shove this axe into your stomach and twist it around and around. Then, I'm going to reach into your stomach and pull out the key. Then, as you slowly die, I'll hold the key in front of you and laugh.'"

"Man, that's totally nuts!" said Mikey.

"I'm going to give you a… plus ten boost to Charisma," said Steph. "Go ahead and roll."

Chloe rolled the twenty-sided die. "Fourteen," she said. "Plus ten. Twenty-four."

"A small pool of urine collects underneath the elderly dragonkin. He looks at you with genuine terror, and seems to be having trouble breathing," said Steph. Behind her wall, she rolled two dice. "His hands are trembling uncontrollably as he hands the keys over to you. He nearly drops the ring several times as he does so. Once the keys are no longer in his possession, he keels over and dies of absolutely terror, his face twisted for all eternity."

"Awesome."

"Hell yeah!" said Mikey.

"Go team!" said Chloe, then, to Mikey. "Okay, off you go and release the prisoners."

"On it, Barb."

"As you free the, the prisoners run away from you in fear, having heard exactly what you said to the dragonkin. Where will you go next?"

"Training ground?" said Mikey, and Chloe nodded.

"Training ground," she said.

"You turn your back on the prison camp," said Steph. "It's empty now, the body of the dragonkin slumped against the cage. All other cages are now open and empty, their occupants having high-tailed it out of there. You return to the crossroads and look over towards the training ground."

"Careful, Barb," said Mikey. "We can't just go rushing in. If it's a training ground, there's likely to be enemies there."

"Good. More to kill."

"Yeah, but these enemies don't adhere to the Hollywood rule of attacking one-by-one."

"How d'you know?" asked Chloe, and Mikey smiled.

"Because Steph's GM," he said, "and Steph's not stupid."

"Oh, gee, thanks!" said Steph, sarcastically, but good-naturedly.

"Okay, here's what'll go down," said Chloe. "I'll walk in alone, you hang back. That way you can do all your wizardry shit without being distracted." She paused. "Just watch the collateral damage, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan," said Mikey.

"I walk in," said Chloe. "No, I _swagger_ in. On my own. With my axe on my shoulder."

"Upon arriving at the Training Ground, you are immediately spotted by a heavyset orc, who seems to be the foreman, or the equivalent. Without hesitating, he shouts and points at you. There are a dozen raiders on the training field, all of whom raise their weapons and charge, yelling a fearsome battle cry."

"Yeah. A dozen raiders?" said Chloe. "Um, Elamon, probably could do with a little help here?"

"I got this," said Mikey. "I cast Ergel's Acid Blast."

"Acid Blast?" said Steph. "Overkill much?"

"Bam!" said Mikey, rolling his die and clapping his hands together.

"Okay," said Steph, sighing. "You conjure up a wave of boiling acid that washes over the charging orcs. Every raider suddenly starts screaming and writhing in pain as the acid makes contact with their skin and vestments. A sweet and sour smell rises from the field as the flesh melts off their bones like warm candle wax dripping down. The heavyset orc sergeant looks around at the devastation, then looks back at you."

"Holy shit, dude!" said Chloe. "Way to go!"

"You see why I haven't really needed a partner so far," said Mikey, smiling.

"I see that," said Chloe. "But what about Sergeant Shithead?"

"All yours," said Mikey, still smiling.

"Cool," said Chloe.

"The orc sergeant raises his massive warhammer and runs at you."

"Easy. I duck under the hammer and knee him right in his orc-balls," said Chloe, rolling the die. "Hell yeah! Twelve."

"Success, but only just. The drops his hammer, clutching his groin. He will never father orc-babies again."

"Ouch," said Mikey.

"Perfect," said Chloe. "While he's distracted, I use Fatal Cleave."

"Roll?"

"Nineteen," said Chloe, grinning. "That's good, right?"

"You swing your greataxe up and over your head," said Steph. "The orc sergeant is still distracted by the pain, and he doesn't notice you swing it back down with both hands. The first he knows anything about the strike is when the axe hits the floor with a muffled thump. He looks up, unaware that he is now dead, blinks twice, and then splits open like a hotdog bun, each half sliding down onto the floor."

"Nice," said Mikey.

"Fuck yeah! I'm awesome at this game!" said Chloe.

"It _is_ going well," said Steph, smiling at her. "And I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. Where to next?"

"Wait up, what about the masses of loot?" said Chloe. "Can we search around?"

"In the giant roiling pool of boiling acid?" asked Steph. "Yeah, the loot is pretty much melted. There's nothing left."

"Dude!" said Chloe, and Mikey looked abashed.

"'Sorry, Barb,'" he said.

"Meh, we all make mistakes," said Chloe.

"Elamon nods," said Mikey. "'Barb is most wise and forgiving.'"

"Okay, let's go twat Durgy Ron," said Chloe. "It's tenting time!" Steph laughed out loud.

"It's _Duurgaron_ ," she said, still laughing. "Durgy Ron?"

"So sue me," said Chloe, smiling.

Steph nodded, placing a large Duurgaron figurine on the board. "You enter the tent to find Duurgaron, warlord of the Raiders of the Black Well, sitting comfortably at his throne. He's a huge red-eyed minotaur, swathed in a fine black cloak, gripping a two-handed sword that's easily six feet long. His laughter bellows. 'Bwhahahaha!'"

"Um, shouldn't that be 'Gyahahahaha'?" asked Chloe, but Mikey looked at her, completely confused.

"Um, what?" he said.

"Don't worry," said Steph. "Chloe's just trying to be cute. You've not played Final Fantasy Seven, have you?"

"Uh, no," said Mikey. "Bit too retro for me."

Chloe shook her head. "Sigh," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "Uncultured heathen. Anyway, back to Durgy Ron." She paused. "It was worth a try. Max and I played it through a couple of years back. Cool game."

"Yeah, but it's not _this_ game," said Steph. "So, Duurgaron laughs, and totally doesn't sound like Heidegger from Shinra…"

"… and is the worse for it…" mumbled Chloe.

"… 'Your lands and people are already mine', he bellows, his voice almost blasting you off your feet, but you hold fast. 'Your deeds here mean nothing! Your kingdom was weak! You are weak!"

"Twat him," said Chloe. "He's a dick."

"I got this," said Mikey, rolling up his sleeves. "I cast Xael's Cataclysmic Cone of Fire! Ha!"

"Your flames shoot out at Duurgaron, but seem to part and pass around him, doing no damage. He laughs again, holding up his right arm to show off his Bracer of Fire Immunity."

"Fire Immunity? Shit," said Mikey, "all my spells are fire-based."

"What about Acid Blast?" said Chloe.

"That would have worked," said Steph, "but, you know, you already used that unnecessarily to show off for Chloe."

"Ah, yeah. Right," said Mikey, looking at his character sheet. "Barb, I don't got this. He's, um, all yours."

"Easy," said Chloe, balling up her fists. "I want to punch that man-cow in the dick."

"Like, right in the dick?" asked Steph, and Chloe nodded.

"Right. In. The. Dick," she said.

"Chloe, you punch a lot of dicks," said Mikey, sitting back down.

"And?"

"Just wondered," he said, quickly. "Note to self. Don't get on Chloe's bad side. Or at least, not until you pass the cricket shop."

"You miss," said Steph. "Duurgaron bursts out laughing as you stumble past him. He gores you in the side. Eight damage."

"Shit. Um, wait a sec," she said, looking at the character sheet. "Holy shit, Annihilation Strike. That sounds boss as fuck."

"Roll, Chloe," said Steph. Chloe rolled the die and her face fell.

"One?" said Mikey.

"That's bad, right?"

"Not for me," said Steph, smiling. "As you take your step, you trip on a rock, collapsing on the ground in a jangly crangle of metal. Your greataxe swings wildly to the side."

"Which side?" said Mikey, fearfully.

"Your side," said Steph. "Reflex save roll, Mikey." He rolled the die.

"Shit. Three."

Steph grinned. "Your axe strikes Elamon's leg. Well, legs. Plural. Severing both feet at the ankles."

"My feet!"

Chloe shrugged. "It's just a flesh wound," she said, grinning. "You've had worse. You've probably got a spell to reform them, right?"

"My feet… you cut off my feet!" said Mikey.

"Mikey, I am so sorry," said Chloe, trying not to laugh. "Um, now what?"

"Duurgaron moves towards the crippled Elamon."

"Shit! My feet! Can I crawl away?"

"No time." She grinned again. "I told you this was my best boss," she said. "Duurgaron approaches, stomping his bloody hooves. Stomp, stomp, stomp!"

"Barb, help!" said Mikey. "Do something!"

"I, um…"

"… stomp, stomp…"

"I…"

"… stomp, stomp, stomp. Duurgaron is practically at the crippled Elamon now."

"Shit, I dunno, I…"

"… if you're going to do anything, now is the time," said Mikey.

"I know!" said Chloe, punching the air. "I dance to distract him!"

"You what?"

"I dance," repeated Chloe. "I taught King Kirk his dance moves, right? So I use them here and now. I dance."

"I'm doomed!" said Mikey. "We're all doomed!"

"Not at all," said Chloe, rolling the die. "I'm awesome!"

"I'm still doomed," said Mikey.

"Ha! Sixteen!" said Chloe, pointing at the twenty-sided die.

"What?" said Steph.

"What?" repeated Mikey.

Steph shook her head in wonder. "Your crappy, arrhythmic dancing is weirdly mesmerising to Duurgaron. He pauses, with his sword in midair for ten seconds or more, unable to take his eyes off the dancing elf barbarian."

"I crawl away!" said Mikey.

"The dancing has bought you enough time to crawl away," agreed Steph. "Nice moves, Chloe."

"Yeah, good one," said Mikey, giggling.

"Duurgaron's attention is on you now," said Steph. "He turns to you."

"Bring it."

"He charges, thrusting with his greatsword."

"I sidestep."

"Roll."

"Shit. Three."

"Oh no," said Mikey.

"Your attempt to dodge his thrust fails spectacularly! Duurgaron laughs as he impales you on his blade, lifting you high into the air."

"Seriously?" said Chloe, looking over to Mikey.

"Sorry, Barb," said Mikey. "I can't do anything with that stupid bracer on his arm!"

Chloe shrugged. "Hey, I just chopped off your feet. I guess we're even," she said.

"You feel your strength raining away as Duurgaron lifts you higher into the air. The pain is immense and you can feel your strength draining away. What do you do?"

"Um, I bring my axe down on his arm. The one with the bracer thingy."

"Oh, brilliant, Chloe," said Mikey.

"You'll have to roll high to hit it," said Steph. "You're almost dead." Chloe nodded and picked up the die, blowing onto it in classic casino fashion. With a flamboyant swirl she rolled the die. It rolled over and over, finally settling down on a…

"Twenty!" shouted Mikey. "Yes!"

"Awesome!" chorused Chloe.

Steph grimaced. "You bring your axe down in a wicked chop, hitting Duurgaron's shoulder and severing his arm completely. His arm, and the accompanying bracer fall the ground, useless."

"Gignomi's Firestrike of Flame!"

"Fuck yeah!" said Chloe.

"Lying on the ground," said Steph, "you conjure a huge flaming spear, which flies true from your hands to impale Duuragon in the chest, slowly incinerating him from the inside. He looks down in disbelief and stupidly tries to pull the spear out, but it's made of pure flame and he only succeeds in burning his remaining hand. He howls in fury and fear as the flames consume him. Slowly, he drops to his knees, sways once, then collapses to the ground, the fire still slowly burning his corpse to a cinder."

"Damn, Elamon," said Chloe. "Like a boss!"

"Duurgaron is defeated," said Steph.

"Yeah, we kinda got that," said Chloe. "Any chance of a healing?"

"I'm sorry, Chloe," said Steph, "but your wounds are too great. I'm afraid that Barb is an ex-barbarian, set to dance no more."

"Nice reference," said Chloe. "Although I actually feel a little sad right now."

"Better to have died a hero than live as a coward."

"Better to have loved and lost than to shove a screwdriver up your nose," said Chloe. She grinned. "That was actually fun, thanks guys."

"Hey Chloe," said Mikey. "Check out what I drew." He held up a page of his notebook. Upon was a pencil drawing of a wizard accompanied by an elf barbarian.

"Nice, Mikey," said Chloe, nodding. "Some neat drawing skills there."

"Glad you enjoyed the game, Chloe," said Steph. "Thanks for playing."

"Yeah, I'll adventure with you any time," said Mikey.

"We'll see," said Chloe, smiling. "Well, thanks for the game, nerds. And the DVD, Steph." She stood up. "Catch you's later."


	10. Heading In

Chloe left Steph and Mikey and headed back to the main entrance of Blackwell. It was nearly time for chemistry, one of the (few) subjects that Chloe enjoyed. She passed a tree and heard her name being called.

"Hi Chloe." It was Samantha, a quiet girl that Chloe had seen around the campus but never really talked to.

"Hi Samantha." Chloe noticed a book in the girl's hands. "What are you reading?"

"Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf," she said, holding the book up.

"Ah yeah, said Chloe. I read that last year in Mrs Hoida's English class."

"Really?" said Samantha. "I didn't think you…"

"… didn't think what, exactly?" said Chloe, and Samantha blushed.

"… did homework," she said, awkwardly, with an apologetic smile on her face. "Sorry."

"Don't be," said Chloe, smiling. "Normally I don't, although this time the play's actually pretty good, so I actually enjoyed studying it."

"What did you like about it?"

"I like how the story basically says that relationships only work if people are willing to lie to each other. It's… kinda sad."

"Do you think it's true?" said Samantha. "A… about the lying to each other, I mean."

"Are you kidding?" said Chloe, sitting down next to Samantha. "Have you been in a relationship?"

"Me? N… I mean, no, I couldn't, you know, it's too…" said Samantha, stumbling over her words.

"Then you wouldn't know," said Chloe, wriggling to try and get comfortable.

"Have you? I mean, been in a relationship?"

"Yeah, I mean, sort of. Kind of," said Chloe.

"Who with?" blurted out Samantha, before she clapped her hand over her mouth.

"None of your business," said Chloe, immediately, and Samantha looked horrified.

"I'm so sorry, Chloe," she said, "I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay," said Chloe, "don't fret about it. Look, the thing is, relationships aren't easy. And I don't just mean with a boy. Or a girl, if you're into that sort of thing." Samantha blushed fiercely at this, so much Chloe almost broke our laughing. "I mean friendship. That's a relationship as well, isn't it? When you have a best friend, someone you can totally rely on to have your back at all times."

"You mean like a sister?" said Samantha.

"No, not really. I mean yeah, but someone _closer_ than a sister. Almost like an extension of yourself. That sort of friend."

"I've never… I mean, I don't have…"

"It's okay, Sam," said Chloe. "The point is, when you have a friend, or boyfriend, or girlfriend like that, a lot of the time, it's really easy being around them. But you still have to work at the relationship. And you have to be prepared to lie."

"But why?" said Samantha. "I mean, surely honesty is the only way to with your friends a… and your boyfriend? You know, trust and all that."

"You'd think so," said Chloe, "but really, being honest _all_ the time will soon result in a fight. 'Do I look fat in this?' 'Do you think she's more attractive than I am?' 'Can we really afford this handbag?' 'I'm washing my hair tonight.'" At this, Samantha started giggling.

"You're talking about little white lies, right?" she said, and Chloe nodded.

"Well, yeah, kinda," said Chloe. "A couple, or friends, always need to have their own secrets. I'm not talking about having an affair, or really big secrets like that, because that will completely erode trust. But you need to be able to keep a few things from your friend/partner. You get me?"

"I… think so," said Samantha. "I'm just not sure if you're joking or being serious. Sorry, I'm a little slow sometimes."

"Hey, it's cool," said Chloe. "I know I can be a bitch at times."

"People always say that," babbled Samantha, "but I think you're actually quite…" Her brain caught up, and she realised what she'd said and clapped her hand over her mouth again. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Chloe!" she said. "No-one says anything like that. I don't know what I'm talking about. I'm…"

"Hey, it's cool," said Chloe, again, getting up. "I'll catch you around, Sam."

 _Yeah, she knows exactly what she's saying. It's useful to know someone without a filter sometimes._

…

"Kari! Kari Price!" called a familiar voice, and Chloe's head dropped.

 _Seriously, am I ever going to get inside?_

"It's Chloe," she said, turning to face Victoria Chase as she approached.

"Oh, right, yeah. I'm just teasing. I mean, it's all good, isn't it? People have been taking me so seriously since I won the Beacon's Young Artist Award for my photography."

"Oh, you won that, did you?" said Chloe, dryly. "I really didn't realise that."

"Oh yes, you must have seen my photo on the noticeboard. It's quite a prestigious award, you know," said Victoria, oblivious to Chloe's tone. "My mother says it's the sort of award that can really kickstart a photographer's career. You know, gets one noticed. Not that it's a big deal. I mean, around a hundred pieces were submitted, and mine was chosen as the best. The best. Mine."

"Congrats, I guess."

"Yeah, thanks. I mean, the Beacon's going to put me up on the front page of the Lifestyle section. I guess that should be a big deal, but… well, we'll see. I just hope my mother's correct, and it's not just some bullshit backward award. Do you see?"

"I'm sure I don't. Did you want something, Vicky?" said Chloe.

"Oh no, I just wanted to tease you," said Victoria, smiling. "Although, please don't call me Vicky. I really don't like that, you know. They tried calling me that in the Vortex Club, but they're not now."

 _O-ho, now we get to the point of the conversation. I was wondering where this would lead to. Why exactly Victoria fucking Chase, aka Icky Vicky would approach me._

"You're in the Vortex Club, Vicky?"

"I did ask you not to…" Victoria stopped herself and took a deep breath. "Well, I'm not _exactly_ a member of the club, but I _am_ being courted. Heavily. But they need to make some changes, you know."

"I don't think I…"

"I mean, it's the Vortex Club, right? It should be a collection of Blackwell elites, not some anti-bullying, handholding Kumbaya shit? No, just no. I won't have it. Once I'm in, I plan to rise to the top and make some changes. When I'm a senior, it will look very, very different, I can tell you that. Mind you, between the Beacon's Young Artist Award and the Vortex Club, it's hard to keep people from putting me up on a pedestal." She looked directly at Chloe with a new intensity. "But you'll know all about that, right? You know, what with Rachel Amber, yeah?"

"Wait, what about Rachel?"

"Don't you know? Haven't you even checked your social media this morning?"

"Well, no, actually," said Chloe. "I don't check it all the time, you know, I'm not a slave to Facebook."

"Oh, I see," said Victoria, laughing in a really high-pitched, annoyingly superior way. "That's _so_ last year, isn't it? I mean, I simply _have_ to check it first thing in the morning, and then keep up during the day. I can't afford to start losing my fans now, can I? Anyway, Rachel posted a totally sick selfie of the two of you having the time of your lives. Together. Do tell."

"It's a photo, Vicky. It's not a big deal."

"But it's on Facebook, Kari! I mean, that's like practically saying that you and Rachel are BFFs, right?"

"We're really not, you know."

"So, what's she into?" said Victoria, ignoring Chloe's comments. "I mean, what's her thing? Is it drugs? I mean, I'm not judging or anything. I figure if she's hanging with you, she must be into some serious effed up shit, you know? Um, no offense, of course."

"No, Vicky, I don't know."

"Well, look at your face."

"What about my face?" Chloe frowned, but Victoria continued, oblivious.

"Well, I mean, you really should have put on some makeup this morning. To cover your eye, you know. I mean, it really doesn't look good, does it? I mean, it doesn't look _right_."

"I walked into a door."

"Yeah, I'm sure, Kari. But seriously…"

"Vicky, I've no idea why you're talking to me about Rachel. I met her at the concert last night and we had a great time. That's it, there's no more to the story."

"Everybody loves her, though, don't they? Little Miss Perfect," said Victoria, and now there was a bite to her voice.

 _Here we go._

"So you're jealous of Rachel Amber," said Chloe. "Okay, that makes more sense now, gotcha."

"God, I don't have time for this," said Victoria, reddening. "I didn't even finish the chemistry assignment, and you're… being you. Ugh."

 _Hmm. Chemistry._

"I'm sorry, Victoria," said Chloe, deliberately softening her voice, "I didn't mean to be rude. I finished the assignment already, so… would you like some help with it?"

"You'd… you'd help me?"

"Yeah, of course! That last problem was quite hard, wasn't it? Look, I'll write down the list here. All you need to do then is just look up their symbols on the periodic table. You can do that, right?"

"Of course I can."

"Cool. Well, here goes." Chloe scribbled on Victoria's notepad. "You want Fluorine, Uranium, Carbon, Potassium and, um, Uranium again. Then, you want Bismuth, Technetium and Hydrogen, and finally Copper and Niton."

"Niton?"

"Yeah, I know. It's an old name for Radon, but I did some research and they're specifically looking for that name, not Radon. It's a bit of a trick question, I think."

"Ok, perfect." Victoria smiled, although it was nowhere near a genuine smile. "Thanks, Kari." Her voice fairly dripped with false butter. It was actually nauseating.

"No problem," said Chloe, trying to hide the smirk from her face. "Enjoy." Victoria walked away, and Chloe began to head inside.

 _Right, finally. Why am I so fucking popular this morning?_

 _Is it simply that selfie that Rachel posted?_

 _Has she… made me popular?_

 _No, surely not._

 _Is that even possible?_

 _Do I want it, if it is?_

All these questions swirled around Chloe's head as she made her way across the courtyard towards the main entrance. She began to climb the short flight of steps, but as she put her foot on the first step, totally distracted, she failed to see the figure running behind her. He also failed to see her.

Chloe was looking down, so that impact was totally unexpected. She cried out as her balance was taken away from her by the fleeing figure. They both crashed painfully to the ground, although it seemed like Chloe had faired better than her assailant. She picked herself up (dust herself off and… start all over again – the song suddenly swam into her thoughts) and looked around. On the floor near her was a boy she recognised.

 _Nathan Prescott. Or Nathan Prickscott. Take your pick._

While she'd never really interacted with him to any extent, she knew all about Nathan. Or rather, she knew all about his family. They were one of the most powerful families in Arcadia Bay. Rich beyond rich, and power beyond power. They were slowly but surely taking over everything. Blackwell was under their spell, and they'd bought up other business, some to strip and close, others to run for as much profit as possible.

 _I can't remember exactly what it is that Nathan's dad did originally, but I'm pretty sure it was nautical-related. Maybe clubbing baby seals? Going around kicking puppies? Not entirely sure, but I do know that there's a lot of people around town that hate them. Especially all the fisherman they've put out of work._

 _And as for Nathan himself, he's… odd. Privileged? The silver spoon up his ass hasn't been surgically removed yet! I mean, he's a dick, but he's… quiet. Whether that means he's constantly plotting everyone's downfall like his dad, or he's just dark and brooding, I don't know. Either way, he's still a dick. Samantha reckons he's all sensitive and shit, but I don't know. He gets picked on, I guess._

When Nathan fell, he'd dropped his photograph album.

 _Yeah, I remember he's into photography. Never seen any of his work though. Unlike Evan, who's work seems to be plastered everywhere. It's pretty good, actually. Probably why it's plastered all over the school. And Nathan's isn't._

"What have we got here, Twitch?" For the first time, Chloe realised who Nathan had been running away from. Drew North, one of the school jocks, and not one of the more intelligent ones, either. As soon as he'd seen Nathan drop his album, he'd pounced on it before Nathan could pick it, or himself up. He got to his feet, glowering at Chloe, then turned his attention to his assailant.

"Don't call me that!" he spat, but Drew wasn't having any of it. He opened the album and flicked through a few pages, his eyebrows raising further and further upwards.

"Oh, wow," he muttered. "This is some seriously fucked up shit, Twitch." He shook his head and whistled. "Do you… you know, show your work to other people? Do you… try to pull chicks with this stuff?"

"It's not yours!" said Nathan, reaching for it, but Drew held it out of his reach. "Give it back!" He took a step back and bumped into Chloe again.

"Hey!" she said, pushing him off. "You losers wanna take this elsewhere?"

Drew looked at her and cocked his head. "The mute speaks?" As he did so Nathan made a lunge for his book, actually getting his fingertips onto it, but Drew was quicker and moved it away, out of his reach. "I hate that you're on the team, Prescott," he continued. "Most people earn their spot. Then again, most people don't buy off the coach to compensate for their total lack of talent."

"At least my family pays tuition," Nathan said. "How much financial aid does _your_ deadbeat dad need again?"

 _Probably not the right thing to say, Nathan. Really not._

Drew narrowed his eyes at Nathan. "My dad lost his job," he said, speaking very slowly and deliberately, "at the shipyard, when _your_ dad closed it down." He socked his right fist into his left palm. "You sure you wanna talk shit to me, loser?" He took a step towards Nathan, who, for his part, looked fearful but didn't back away. Drew closed the gap further and this time Nathan did back away, but he was up against the wall near the steps and had nowhere further to go. However, help arrived from an unexpected source.

"Stop it!" shouted Samantha, putting her diminutive form in between the two boys and glaring at Drew. "You guys! Stop!" Drew continued his march forward and Samantha turned to Chloe for help, skipping out from in between them to stand by the other girl. "Chloe, do something!" she said, gesturing at Drew. "Don't just stand there watching!"

"You know something?" said Drew, ignoring the girls. "I'm gonna do you a favour, Twitch. You can't be part of the team and be into this stupid fucked up shit at the same time."

"You're a piece of shit," said Nathan, trying to get his album back and failing again. "I'll kill you!"

"You'll kill me?" said Drew, grinning. "How exactly do you plan to do that, hmm? You gonna tell your Daddy on me?"

"Really? And this has what exactly to do with me?" said Chloe to Samantha. "I mean, the guy bumped into me, but other than that…"

"Well, you know," said Samantha, then she narrowed her eyes at Chloe. "Are you actually condoning bullying, Chloe?" she said.

"Not at all," said Chloe. "Bullying is… wrong."

"Good. Then do something about it?"

"Are you serious?" Chloe said. "Look at me. Get involved in a fight? I mean, _another_ fight? This one has precisely nothing to do with me. I could get hurt protecting Prickscott."

"Don't call him that," said Sam, clenching her fist and hitting Chloe on the arm. "Do something."

"No," said Chloe, shaking her head. "Not my problem. Besides, if you don't take the time to stand back…"

"… hey Prescott…" said Drew, stopping his advance and looking over to the fountain. "You know I'm a pretty good quarterback, don't you? I mean, I earned my spot on the team…"

"… you could miss some of life's finer moments," continued Chloe. "For example…"

Drew hefted the album behind his head and, with an accompanied yell from Nathan, threw it over the courtyard. Nathan jumped desperately to try and catch it, but it sailed over his head and hit the statue perfectly, dropping down into the fountain with a splash. Nathan cried out in anguish, but Drew only smiled.

"… that," said Chloe, smiling.

"Booyah!" said Drew. "I'm the best! Touchdown throw all the way!"

"Hey!" yelled Nathan. "That took me months to put together! You…"

"You what, exactly?" said Drew, slowly, raiding his eyebrows. "Go on, finish that sentence. I dare you."

Nathan looked at Drew and made a decision, closing his mouth, contenting himself to look daggers at the bigger boy.

"Good choice," said Drew. "I've got some advice for you, Twitch. Quit the team. You don't even want to be on it, I know. So quit, or next time it'll be far worse than a bath for your precious photos."

"Go to hell!" spat Nathan, but Drew only laughed and playfully slapped his face before walking off. Samantha ran over to Nathan to comfort him, but he just pushed her away and marched over to the fountain, picking out his album. Close to tears, he walked away, head down in the direction of the dormitories.

With the boys gone, Samantha rounded on Chloe.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," she said, marching over to Chloe.

"Why?"

"You could have stopped that," she said.

"How? They're bigger than me," said Chloe, putting her hands up. "I didn't want to get hurt."

"Were you afraid?" said Sam.

"Me? Afraid?" scoffed Chloe. "I don't think so."

"I thought I knew you," said Samantha. "I thought you were okay, but I see that everyone's right. You just don't give a sh… you don't care about anyone else," she said, shaking her head. "It's… disappointing."

"Yeah well, that _is_ something I'm good at," said Chloe. "Disappointing people." She smiled. "Have a nice day, Sam."

"It's _Samantha_ , thank you," said Sam, "and I will. I hope you can live with yourself!" she pushed past Chloe and marched up the stairs and into the building. Chloe watched her go, shaking her head in amazement, then looked at her watch.

 _Shit, time to get to class!_

She climbed the steps and opened the door to the main school building. As she did so, the door flew open and Chloe jumped back, startled. There stood Rachel, dressed in a very strange costume. Blue and red, it looked kind of like a ripped bodysuit. She looked… good. Very good, in fact.

 _Oi, stop that!_

 _Stop that right now!_

Rachel looked straight at Chloe and grinned. "Perfect," she said. "You're here." She grabbed Chloe's hand and dragged her into the school building.


	11. Suspicions

"Okay, you ready to go?" Rachel could sense that Chloe was beginning to flag, and she knew there was a long walk ahead of them to get home from the concert. There were no trains at that time of night, and she knew it would take at least an hour to get back to Arcadia. The concert was over; Firewalk were beginning to pack up and, while the mill was still busy, most people had started to make their way out. She looked across at Chloe. They were sat by the side of the stage, drenched in sweat, exhausted, but very happy. Chloe looked up, still catching her breath and nodded, holding out her hand. Rachel took it and helped her up. "Come on, you're not _that_ tired," she said, smiling. They made their way out of the stage area and grabbed a couple of the last of the beers on their way out.

"You gonna be okay?" said Rachel, once they were outside.

"Yeah," Chloe said. "The cold air does wonders for reju… rejuve… yeah, making you feel better." She giggled, and Rachel joined in. They linked arms and headed down the path towards the railway line. "Rache?" said Chloe, after they'd walked a while in silence, just listening to the wind through the trees, following the train tracks.

"Mm?"

"Did you enjoy tonight?"

Rachel looked at Chloe in the gloomy forest light. "Yeah," she said. "Firewalk are awesome."

"Not what I meant," said Chloe, a little hesitantly. Rachel stopped walking and looked at her with interest.

"I was right," she said, quietly.

"About what?" Chloe asked, her curiosity piqued.

"I've seen you around Blackwell, Chloe," said Rachel. "I like to observe. I watch things. I notice things. And I've noticed you. You always seemed to be aggressive, up for a fight, that sort of attitude," she continued. "But I always thought that it was a mask, that underneath you were…" she stopped talking, unsure of what to say next.

"I was what?"

"Forgive me, but lonely," said Rachel, after a pause. "Maybe a little vulnerable. I don't mean that in a bad way, mind," she added, hastily.

"Is that why you came up to me tonight?" said Chloe, starting to get angry. "Because I'm a pity case? Is that what you see me as?"

"That's not what I said," said Rachel.

"Yeah, fuck that," said Chloe, walking off at a furious pace. "I'm not a fucking pity-fuck, no fucking thank you."

"Chloe!" called Rachel, jogging after her. She caught up and caught her arm. "Please?" she said, quietly, and Chloe stopped, turning to look at her.

"What?"

"That's not what I meant," said Rachel. "Look, it's not easy for me to say…" She hesitated. "Whenever I saw you at school, it struck me that you needed a friend."

"Like I said, a pity case…"

"No, not a pity case. Just… like I needed one, too," said Rachel, laying her soul in front of the other girl. Chloe did a quick double take.

"What?" she said, all the fight instantly taken out of her. "But… you have loads of friends. You're so popular."

"Being popular isn't the same as having friends, you know," said Rachel. "Some of the loneliest places in the world are when you're surrounded by people."

"Shit, that's deep," said Chloe. She was slightly slurring her words, but the effects of the beer were slowly wearing off.

"Exactly. I don't claim to know how you feel, but I think we're not too different, you and I," she said. "In fact, I've…" Rachel stopped, feeling herself blushing up a little.

 _Shit, I'm saying too much._

"No, go on," said Chloe, the beginnings of a smile starting to curve her lips upward.

"Look, you're gonna think this is stupid. I've wanted to talk to you for a little while now, I just… it just never seemed the right moment. But tonight, when I saw you up there, and you looked like you were in trouble…"

"… I could totally have taken them…"

"… I'm sure you could have, but I didn't know that at the time. I thought you might have needed a hand. You know, even the odds a little." Rachel smiled, although in the gloom it was missed by Chloe, who stood there, shuffling her feet. "Well, say something, please, Chloe, I've laid my soul out here," said Rachel. She was still a little hesitant. "That's not easy to do to someone you don't really know."

"Um, thanks, I guess," said Chloe. They began walking again, and more minutes passed in silence. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, however.

 _This is… nice._

"So, did you recognise me?" said Rachel, breaking the silence.

"You mean, earlier?"

"Yeah."

"Um, kind of," said Chloe. "I mean, you look pretty different to your usual getup." She grinned. "Suits you." Rachel suddenly stopped and looked at Chloe.

"Chloe Price, is that a compliment?" she said.

"Um, I guess it is," said Chloe. "I just mean…"

"Say no more," said Rachel, coyly, putting her finger on Chloe's lips. "Chloe Price thinks I'm hot." She grinned in the darkness.

"I didn't say…"

"Doesn't mean you didn't think it," she said, pursing her lips. "Or, am I wrong?"

"What?"

"If you don't think I look hot, then just tell me. Go on, I dare you. Be honest. Crush my dreams," said Rachel, grinning widely. Chloe began to look more and more uncomfortable, and Rachel smiled, more gently this time. "It's okay, Chloe, I was only teasing," she said, holding out her hand to the other girl. Chloe accepted the offer and they continued walking through the forest, hand in hand, barely speaking but just enjoying each other's company as the night sailed on towards the dawn.

…

"Morning dear."

"Morning mom," said Rachel. "What do you think?" She did a little twirl in front of her mother, arm deep in preparing breakfast. She looked up and smiled.

"Oh, that's much better," she said. "It fits you far better around here," she pointed to Rachel's midriff, "and here," pointing to her backside. "Can't have you looking all frumpy now, can we?"

"Yeah, I'd rather not," said Rachel with a smile. "Thanks mom, you did great. I hope you didn't spend too much time on it."

"Oh, you know me," said her mother. "I like to get things right." Rachel went back upstairs to change out of her costume. When she came back down, her mother handed her a cup of tea and a plate of toast. "Are you okay? That rehearsal went on late last night."

"Yeah, I'm sorry mom," Rachel said, taking the breakfast and sitting down. "We got caught up in the scene where Ariel and Prospero are arguing around the wreck of the boat. In fact, we hung around afterwards talking about it. I should have rung. Sorry about that."

"Oh, don't apologise, love," said her mother. "I think it's great that you're doing this. I'm looking forward to seeing it on Saturday. I know your father is too."

"He's not here?" said Rachel, looking around.

"No, he had to go to work early," she said, "something urgent came up. But he'll be back soon. He rang me from the office, saying he was in such a rush he'd forgotten to take his phone. In fact, can you go and get it, please, dear? We can have it ready for him, I know he'll be grateful."

"Sure thing, mom. Any idea where it is?"

"I think it's in his office," said her mother. "You can get it after you've eaten." Rachel nodded and began to tackle her breakfast, her mind wandering to the night before.

 _Epic night._

 _And… a new friend? Unexpected._

 _But not unwelcome._

She opened her phone as she ate, looking through the photos she'd taken. As she did, the phone beeped. Someone had replied to her post from earlier (when she got home, she'd posted a selfie with her and Chloe, with the caption 'Firewalk!'). Checking her messages, she found, in fact, that she'd actually started a whole conversation.

 _Trevor [Jealous!]_

 _Victoria [You look totally hot, Rachel. Who's the arm candy?]_

 _Armond [Debra something, I think. Debra Borgen]_

 _Taylor [So fun! Kisses!]_

 _Dana [So jealous! GLAM! GET IT GIRRRRL]_

 _Trevor [Who's Debra Borgen?]_

 _Armond [With Rachel in the picture]_

 _Juliet [Ugh, Rache, you're so gorgeous. I hate you xoxoxo]_

 _Victoria [That's not Debra Borgen, that's Kari, or whatever her name is, isn't it? And who's Armond?]_

 _Trevor [Dude, that's Chloe Price]_

 _Victoria [That's her name. Thought it was Kari Price. What are you doing with her? She's nobody.]_

 _Trevor [Dude, she's cool]_

 _Victoria [Tay, wasn't Rachel invited to your sleepover last night? I was wondering where she was at.]_

 _Taylor [Meh. Firewalk's a good excuse for missing it]_

 _Steph [Burn]_

 _Victoria [Oh no, I didn't mean it like that. I enjoyed it totally. Soooo much fun! Better than Firewalk]_

 _Trevor [Nah, Firewalk rock! ROCK!]_

 _Alyssa [This is a really intelligent conversation]_

 _Victoria [So butt out, Alyssa. Nobody asked you to join. Maybe once you drop a few pounds you can join in]_

 _Taylor [Bam!]_

Rachel frowned. This was exactly the reason she didn't spend any time with the so-called elites of the Vortex Club. She sent a quick private text to Alyssa, apologising for the direction the thread had taken, and she finished her breakfast.

"Don't worry, I'll do it," she told her mother, taking the plates over to the sink and washing them up, setting them to drip-dry on the side. She always preferred to let things drip-dry where space allowed – there were far less smudges that way.

"Oh, thanks, love," said her mother. She'd finally sat down and was enjoying a piece of toast and cup of fresh coffee. "Don't forget your father's phone," she said.

"No mom, I'm just going to get it." Rachel finished washing up her plates, dried her hands and headed over to her father's study. It was a side room near the main entrance, and was code locked. As the new Arcadia District Attorney, she knew it was full of confidential information, evidence bundles and documents. She swiftly entered the code, waited for the confirmation beep and slipped inside.

Her father's cellphone was on his desk, on top of a sheaf of papers. She was curious, but she knew all too well the consequences of her reading confidential information to which she was not entitled.

 _"You know what could happen?" her father had yelled after catching her. "If anyone finds out that the confidence has been broken, then the chain of evidence is lost, the criminal goes free and I lose my job. You want that? YOU WANT THAT?"_

 _"No, daddy, of course not." Rachel was in tears. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I promise."_

 _"Good girl," said her father. "Okay, you can go fetch me a coffee now."_

She recalled that conversation with a shiver and picked up the cellphone. As she did so, it buzzed and she nearly dropped it in surprise. Automatically, she looked at the screen.

 _Unknown Number [Agreed. This afternoon, three o'clock. By the old tree. You know, the one in the park. I'm looking forward to seeing you again, James]_

Rachel stopped, her mind whirling around like a tornado. _Meeting tonight? In the park? Who's he meeting? Is it a… is he cheating on mom?_ Rachel felt the heat explode in her face as her mind started moving at ludicrous speed.

 _He has been secretive recently, you know. Not telling you everything or dodging the question. You put it down to the stresses of being a District Attorney, but… could he_ actually _be cheating on mom?_

 _No, of course not. Don't be stupid. He's not that sort of person._

 _He's a man. That's what they do. They cheat._

 _But he doesn't._

 _Doesn't he? Are you sure? Are you absolutely, one hundred percent sure he's not cheating on mom?_

 _Would she know about it if he was?_

 _Getting back to the secrets here._

 _Come on, Rachel, he's your father. It's Daddy we're talking about here._

 _Then who's he meeting? Something to do with work? If that's the case, why not meet in the office? Or home here?_

 _No, there's definitely something really fishy going on here. Perhaps I…_

"Are you okay in there?" called her mother, breaking into her thoughts. "You know he doesn't like you poking around."

"Not poking around," Rachel called back, after a moment. "Just getting the phone." She quickly existed the study, locking the door behind her. "Here it is." She put it on the side table by the door. "He can pick it straight up from here when he comes back."

"Thanks, honey," her mother said, looking up from a magazine. "You off to school now?"

"Yeah. We've a quick rehearsal before class this morning," said Rachel. "Mr Keaton wants to go over one of the scenes again. I'll take the costume in, he'll want to see it."

"Yes dear," said her mother, now deep in the magazine she was reading. "Have a nice day. Usual time home?"

"Not sure, mom," said Rachel. "I'll let you know." She left the house, her mind racing. It was too early for the bus, so she picked up the pace, walking briskly to school.

 _He's cheating on mom._

 _No, don't be stupid, he's not._

 _Oh yeah? Prove it, then._

 _How?_

 _Easy. Three o'clock. The old tree. You know the one in the park. He's taken_ you _there often enough. Did you never question why it was always that tree?_

 _Fuck off._

 _Can't. Won't._

 _Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP!_

 _Can't take it, can you? Can't take the fact that Daddy, wonderful, pious Daddy, pillar of the community, is a lying sack of shit._

 _SHUT UP. I SAID SHUT UP!_

 _Okay, but I'm still here. Just so you know._

…

"Ah Rachel, good, you're here," said the drama teacher, Mr Keaton. "We're just going through Act Three, Scene One."

"We're having an issue," said Dana. Rachel sighed.

"Another one?"

"It's this whole section. I mean, Ferdinand says 'No, precious creature. I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, than you should such dishonour undergo while I sit lazy by.'"

"And?"

"Well it's sexist."

"No, it's not," said Hayden. "It's chivalrous."

"It's the same thing," said Dana. "Ferdinand won't let Miranda help him out, due to some misguided sexism."

"It's not that at all," argued Hayden. "Look, he has a lot of logs to carry. They're heavy. Miranda is fourteen. He just doesn't want Miranda to struggle."

"But that's it exactly!" said Dana. "The following line, 'It would become me as well as it does you, and I should do it with much more ease, for my good will is to it and yours it is against.' She's basically saying she can do the job just as well as he can. In fact, she has good will on her side, so she'd actually find it easier."

"Sorry, Dana, I think you're wrong there," said Rachel. "That line doesn't mean that at all."

"Oh?"

"See," said Rachel, sitting on the side of the stage and looking up at Dana. "Miranda is in love with Ferdinand. I say as much in the following line: 'Poor worm, thou art infected! This visitation shows it.' She's in love, simple as that! And love makes you think you are invincible. I think Ferdinand is right in this case. Miranda isn't physically able to carry all those logs. She only _thinks_ she can in order to impress, or maybe help Ferdinand. But that's not…"

"So it's not sexist?"

"I don't think so at all. Chivalry isn't the same as sexism, Dana. If a guy offers to do nice things, like carry your logs, open doors for you, pay for dinner, give up his seat for you, that isn't sexist, that's him being nice, surely."

"It can be, though," said Dana. "Hayden, do you open doors for girls?"

"Of course," said Hayden, and then, after a moment's thought, "when I remember."

"Do you open doors for guys?"

"Of course not!" he scoffed. "They'd think you were gay or something!"

"And would you open doors for girls who aren't attractive?" Hayden didn't answer that. He stood there, looking slightly awkward, so Dana continued. "My point exactly. Opening doors for girls may be chivalrous indeed, but _only_ opening doors for girls you find attractive is sexist. You _have_ to agree with me on that, Rache, surely."

Rachel nodded, conceding the point. "Okay, that's a fair point, although you should point out you're not actually accusing Hayden of being sexist, to be fair to him. So chivalry with an ulterior motive isn't chivalry, we can agree on that. But Ferdinand doesn't have an ulterior motive. He's not in love with Miranda, I don't think he's even aware that Miranda is in love with him. And anyway, she's fourteen. I mean, alright, he does see Miranda as attractive, but in this case I think he's just being chivalrous. He's not trying to be patronising at all, Dana. And Miranda is simply blinded by love."

"But is it love?" At Dana's comment, Mr Keaton sighed.

"Not again, Dana, please," he said, wearily. "I think we've don't that one to death." He clapped his hands together. "Okay, can we take it from the top of the scene please?"

"Mr Keaton, can you do my one line for me please?" asked Rachel. "I just need to change into my costume and pop to the ladies' room." The teacher sighed but nodded, and Rachel left the Drama Lab. Once she'd changed back into her costume ( _really should have stayed in it, shouldn't I?_ ) she went to the bathroom, splashed her face briefly and retouched up her makeup, trying not to think about the text message she'd seen earlier.

 _Air, I need air._

On a whim, she left the bathroom and headed outside to get some fresh air. However, her plans changed as she opened the doors to go out, only to almost bump into a familiar face who was trying to come into the school at the same time. Her face broke into a wide grin.

"Oh good," she said, catching Chloe's hand. "You're here."


	12. Drama

"I do beseech you, chiefly that I might set it in my prayers; what is your name?"

Hayden's voice grew louder as Rachel dragged Chloe into the Drama Lab, Chloe too flustered to even think of protesting.

"Miranda," said a voice that Chloe recognised as Dana Ward, one of the more impossibly beautiful (and totally untouchable) girls at school. "Oh, my father," she continued, as Chloe entered the Drama Lab, "I have broke your hest to say so!" Both Hayden and Dana were on a small stage set up on one side, while the drama teacher, Mr Keaton, stood watching them with his arms folded.

"Good," he said. "Continue."

"Admired Miranda," said Hayden, puffing out his chest and extending his arms toward her. "Indeed worth what's dearest in the world! Many a lady I have eyed with best regard, and, um, many a time hath listened…" He stopped and looked around, then tried again. "Many a time the harmony of their tongues… um, hath I listened to… and…"

"Hayden!" reproached Mr Keaton, stepping towards the stage and flinging his arms out in frustration. "You're killing me! You've had weeks to be off book! Seriously, do you even want to do this?" He waved the script in the air.

"Of course," said Hayden. "I'm sorry, I'll…"

"You'll learn your part," said the teacher. "And quickly. You're on stage on Saturday, remember. And don't apologise to me. Apologise to your scene partner, to Dana, who's been very accommodating, and to your fellow actors, but most of all, you need to apologise to yourself for…"

"Mr Keaton, hi," said Rachel, breaking in. "Sorry to interrupt, but does this look better? I had my mom take it in a bit."

Chloe had noticed earlier that Rachel was dressed up, and she now had a full chance to really take in her costume. It looked a little like a court jester, but definitely darker. It was a dark blue, with touches of deep red. It wasn't pristine, either, it looked a lot like a ripped bodysuit, and it looked… good. Very good, in fact. Even better when Rachel started spinning for the teacher. As she spun, she winked at Chloe, who felt her heart skip a beat.

 _Wow. She looks… hot._

 _Stop it, Chloe. That's Rachel Amber. You have_ no _chance._

 _But…_

 _May as well give up before you get in too deep, girl. Unless you're the type of person who gets off on rejection. Because that's all you'll get from her._

"Mrrrooow," said Dana, raising her eyebrows. "Looking smokin' Rache." Rachel grinned and winked again at Chloe.

 _Fuck!_

 _Stop that, Chloe!_

 _But I can't, she…_

 _Stop it!_

"Exquisite, Rachel," said Mr Keaton, "as always. Anyway, Hayden, you need to…"

"I'm sorry Mr Keaton," said Dana, "but there's something I just don't get. This part here, 'My affections are then most humble; I have no ambition to see a goodlier man.' I mean, does she really mean that?"

"Yeah," said Hayden, "especially because I just straight out told her I'd been banging all the chicks."

"Dana, come on," said Mr Keaton, "we've been through this so many times, I…" He stopped talking as Rachel interrupted.

"It's a hard one to look at," she said, "I mean, we've talked about that line forever. I think perhaps it's time for a fresh perspective. Chloe." She put her arm around the surprised girl and brought her closer to the stage. "You're perfect," she said, winking. "You've never heard this play before, right?"

"Um, what play?" said Chloe, which brought a laugh from both Dana and Hayden, while Mr Keaton just looked slightly perturbed.

"This play, um, who are you?"

"This is Chloe," said Rachel. "A friend of mine. She was just passing. We're rehearsing for Saturday night," she continued, for Chloe's benefit. "It's 'The Tempest'."

"Ah, Shakespeare, right?"

"You know it?" said Mr Keaton, excitedly.

"Nah, just saw the posters in the courtyard," said Chloe, earning a chuckle from Rachel.

"Nice one, Chloe," she said, and Chloe felt a quick rush of blood to her face at the praise. "Anyway, you're perfect to view your opinion on this."

"Um, I don't think I'm…"

"Poppycock," said Rachel. "You're perfect." She winked again at Chloe. "Okay, so Dana's character is Miranda, a young girl, and Hayden is playing Ferdinand. Dana, can you do the line again please?"

"Sure," said Dana. "'My affections are then most humble; I have no ambition to see a goodlier man.'"

"So," said Rachel, once Dana had finished, "the question here is: are Miranda's feelings of instant passion for Ferdinand just inexperience and dramatic circumstance? Or has she actually just met the love of her life?" What do you think?"

"She's what? Twelve?" said Chloe.

"She's fifteen," said Mr Keaton.

"Are you sure?" said Rachel. "Only that her dad said she wasn't yet three when they landed on the island and twelve years have passed since then? Wouldn't that make her fourteen?"

"Well… yes, I suppose it would," said Mr Keaton. "But what's a year? Okay, so she's fourteen. Your point, Kara?"

"Chloe," said Chloe, "and okay, she's fourteen. Damn Dana," she said, smirking, "you look so good for fourteen." This earned a giggle from the tall girl. "Okay, so she's fallen in love at fourteen. That's just stupid. You don't do that shit."

"You sure about that?" said Dana. "I mean…"

"No, when you're fourteen you have no idea how true love works. However," continued Chloe, thinking more deeply about the subject, "maybe she _isn't_ in love. Maybe she only _thinks_ she is. Hmm, I guess that could work," she said. "She's too young to really fall in love, but she could certainly think so. I mean, at that age you don't really know the difference between love and lust, do you? Although, then again, maybe she has met the love of her life. I mean, sometimes you just know. Like, with a new friend, or a best friend, or something like that. Yeah?"

"So which is it?" said Rachel, interested. "You're really thinking this through."

"Yeah," said Hayden, "usually you just spout it out without thinking about… shit, sorry Chloe, I didn't mean that."

"Yeah, you did," said Chloe, but she wasn't annoyed. "I mean, I know I've not got the rep here, but I actually do like thinking things through sometimes. I mean, I'm not totally stupid, you know."

"Didn't think you were," said Hayden, trying to limit the damage, but Chloe shook her head.

"I know what people think of me," she said. "There's no need to sugar-coat it. But yeah, this sort of thing does interest me. So Miranda thinks she's in love, or lust, with this guy Ferdinand. Sounds like he's no saint," she said. "Right?"

"Right," said Hayden. "I've basically just told her I've been out banging all the chicks."

"Such a wonderful way of putting it," sighed the teacher. "Shakespeare wound such emotions within his words, and you just blast through them without a second's thought. Still, I work with what I have to work with. Better than the freshmen, at least. Although, not by much."

"So clearly Miranda isn't really cognisant of her true emotions," said Chloe.

"So, which is it?" said Rachel. "True love, or grand delusions?"

"I think it's a bit of both. No," said Chloe, holding up her hands, "this isn't a cop-out. But you've got parents coming to see this, right? At twenty bucks a shot? I'd say it's true love. It needs to be true love, doesn't it?"

"A romantic _and_ a cynic? Cool!" said Dana. "Thanks, Chloe."

"See, I agree with Chloe," said Rachel. "We know that Miranda's a bit naïve and inexperienced. I mean, she's only fourteen. And yeah, Hayden, I mean Ferdinand has confessed to certain… extra-curricular activities. But she totally stands up for herself, right? She may be wrong, but she has a brave heart and a spirit to follow it." As Rachel stopped talking, the school bell rang, and Mr Keaton's head dropped.

"Oh no," he said. "First period improv with a group of… freshmen. Great." He drooped out of the classroom, and both Dana and Hayden jumped off the stage, following him out.

"Thanks, Mr Keaton," said Dana, and then, turning around, "see you later guys!"

Chloe looked around the room. It was empty now, apart from Rachel.

 _Just… me and her. In a room. Together._

 _Stop it, Chloe!_

 _No, I won't stop it. It's a nice thought. A nice fantasy. Chloe and Rachel, sitting in the tree…_

 _I SAID STOP IT!_

 _Pff, you're no fun any more._

"So, I've first period chem now," said Chloe.

"No, wait a sec, please, Chloe," said Rachel. "Let me just just slip out of this costume." She leaned in close. "Wow, that eye looks fabulous. Nice work. Where'd you get it done?"

"Uh, what?" said Chloe, confused, but Rachel laughed. She had a very pleasant laugh, one that sent warm shivers down Chloe's spine.

 _Baseball._

 _Think about baseball._

 _On a cold day._

"Just kidding," she said. "That asshole really clocked you a good one."

"It wasn't a big deal," said Chloe. "I've had worse." Rachel smiled and headed into the smaller room just off the main Drama Lab. It had currently been commandeered as a dressing room for the rehearsals.

"I'll just be a minute," she called.

"Okay," Chloe called back, looking around the room. There were a few chairs dotted around, lots of drama posters on the wall. The Drama Lab was a large room, but since the rehearsal stage had been set up, the available space had decreased dramatically. She climbed on to the stage and looked out, trying to imagine what it would be like with the lights on her, looking out into an audience of expectant faces. The thought was warming, surprisingly, and she suddenly felt a pang of regret.

 _You want it, don't you, Chloe? You want to be on the stage. Or… do you just want to be loved? To be adored? To be… respected? To be…_

"Chloe, can you bring me my belt please?" called Rachel, breaking into her thoughts. "I think it's in my bag in the other room."

"Uh, sure," called back Chloe, looking around. She saw what looked like Rachel's bag at the back of the room.

 _Be cool, Chloe, just be cool. No need to do any stupid shit here. Find bag. Get belt. Take belt. Don't fuck up._

Looking in the bag, she saw a small photograph. Unable to resist, she pulled it out and looked at it. It was a lovely photo of a much younger Rachel with her father. They'd been hiking, hunting or picnicking in the woods, she wasn't sure, but it was clearly a loving photograph.

 _Rachel looks so happy._

 _Happy, yes, I remember that. I think I missed it last year, I was in the bathroom at the time._

She looked a little further into the bag and found Rachel's belt. Picking it up, she absent-mindedly rolled it up into a ball and headed through the door into the small room beyond the main Drama Lab. Rachel was there, behind a screen.

"Uh, Rache? Is this your belt?" asked Chloe, and a moment later Rachel's head peeked around the corner of the screen. She smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, that's the one," she said. "Thanks."

Without thinking, Chloe rounded the screen and held out the belt. "Here you…" she said, and the words stuck in her throat.

There was Rachel, mid-change. She'd put her jeans on, but she was wearing nothing on top except her bra. Chloe couldn't help but let her eyes wander, blood rushing to her face as she did so. Rachel was… stunning. She turned around quickly at Chloe's voice, but when she saw Chloe and her obvious discomfort, she began to smirk.

"Like what you see?" she said, biting her bottom lip suggestively.

"Um, I…" Chloe stuttered, still holding out the belt.

"I didn't think you'd actually come into my dressing-room," said Rachel still entertained by Chloe's wild blushing. "Did you bring me flowers?" There was clearly an air to her voice, amused but… searching?

"Uh, no, I… um," said Chloe, trying to catch her breath. "I'll owe you?"

"I'll hold you to that," said Rachel. There was a short silence, Chloe's eyes still obviously wandering, then Rachel spoke again. "Can… I have the belt?" she said, and Chloe's mind slammed back into reality.

"Uh, yeah, of course," said Chloe, handing it over. "I'll… let you finish changing then."

"No, you can stay if you want," said Rachel. "You obviously enjoy the view." She smiled even wider. "It's okay," she said, more gently. "Go on, I won't be a minute. There's a couple of chairs over there."

Glad to escape the embarrassment, Chloe sat in one of the chairs by the dressing-room styled mirrors.

 _Shit dude, that was intense. Rachel is… fucking hot._

 _Are you sure you want to do this? You'll only get hurt. Again._

 _Maybe that's what you want. Maybe you get off on rejection._

 _Shut up, shut up! You have no idea what I want._

 _Of course I do. I'm you. I know_ exactly _what you want. And right now, you want Rachel. And I'm not talking about friends here. You want her to…_

Chloe cleared her throat and shook her head violently, trying to clear it. She opened her eyes and her gaze fell on the mirror in front of her. There was a note on it.

 _'Dana you are very beautiful. Do you want to go out? I would be into that…_

 _From_

 _Guess Who'_

Looking more closely, she could see the name Logan crossed out above the Guess Who.

 _Not too difficult to guess, then. Logan's a… football player, right? Think I've seen him around. Think's he's all that, and more. Dana, you're a stunningly beautiful girl; you could do so much better than him. He'll be after one thing, and one thing only. A notch on his bedpost. Or several notches. Or regular notches…_

"Chloe Price," came an amused voice from behind her. Chloe rose to see Rachel appear from behind the screen. She'd changed into a simple blue check top, red t-shirt and ripped jeans. She still had her blue earring on, the one that Chloe had noticed the night before, and when she smiled at Chloe, she felt her face flush once more.

"Rachel Amber," responded Chloe.

"Last night was amazing," said Rachel.

"I've never seen Firewalk live, but you call getting attacked by skeevy goons amazing? I need to hang out with you more," said Chloe, feeling her heart beating fiercely.

"Deal," said Rachel, to Chloe's delight. "To tell you the truth," she continued, "I went to bed last night wishing it never had to end."

"Yeah."

"But then I thought, why? Why _does_ it have to end? Why _should_ it have to end?"

Chloe took a deep breath. "Maybe it doesn't," she said.

"Doesn't what?"

"Have to end," said Chloe, beginning to blush again."

"Exactly!" said Rachel, punching Chloe's arm. She looked at Chloe coyly. "How would you like to join me on a little extra-curricular field trip?"

 _Rachel wants to ditch? With me?_

Feeling a lot braver than earlier, Chloe summoned up her courage to speak normally and see where the conversation would go. "You going rogue?" she asked. "With me?"

"That's the plan," said Rachel. "If you're up for it?"

"Where to?"

"We'll see," said Rachel. "Is that weird?"

"Not at all," said Chloe. "In fact, I think it's awesome. Hell yeah!"

"I was hoping you'd say that," said Rachel. "So, it's a date." Chloe's heart skipped a beat. "Now, about that eye. It's a hell of a battle scar. You want me to cover it up with some makeup?" She pointed around the dressing room. "There's plenty here."

"Are you kidding?" said Chloe, beginning to laugh. "It's a badge of honour. We totally took those guys!" Rachel clasped Chloe's hand in hers.

"Respect," she said, seriously, then broke out in a huge grin. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here."


	13. Train

The water tower loomed high above as Rachel led Chloe through the forest. Eventually, they reached the water tower and stopped by a small blue hut that offered a view over the train tracks, sitting down on a large stone.

"So," said Rachel.

"So," repeated Chloe.

"You sure you're okay with this?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" said Chloe, smiling, and Rachel smiled back.

"Thanks," she said. "It means a lot."

"So, where are we going?" asked Chloe, but Rachel simply put a finger on Chloe's lips.

"Ssh," she said, whispering. "That's for me to know, and you to find out." At this, Chloe smiled.

"You sure you don't want to just grab the bus, or…"

"The bus? Nuh-uh," said Rachel. "If we're gonna go rogue, we have to do it properly. You ever jumped a train before?"

"Jump a train?" said Chloe, startled. "Um, nope. Not ticked that one off yet."

"Then now's your chance. It's a piece of cake," said Rachel. "That's how I got to the mill last night."

"That was you?" said Chloe, realising suddenly.

"What was me?"

"I saw a dark figure jump off the train by the old mill, that was you?"

"Could have been," said Rachel, frowning. "Wait, you saw me? How could you… where were you?"

"I didn't know it was you. I'd been walking along the tracks, train was approaching and I saw… something… you jump off. Couldn't get a proper look, though."

"So it _was_ someone on the tracks," said Rachel, similarly realising. "I wondered why the train was blowing like hell and slowing down."

"Couldn't be assed to get off the tracks," said Chloe. "Well, not until the last moment, anyway."

"Makes sense now," said Rachel, her eyes twinkling. "Well, it seems there is far more to you than meets the eye, Chloe Price." She grinned. "I look forward to finding out."

The two girls sat in silence for a few minutes. Chloe saw that Rachel was looking right at her, and her heart began to beat quickly.

 _This is… surreal._

She could feel the tension rising between them as time went on without dialogue, and she involuntarily leaned in closer, stopping herself when she realised what she was doing.

 _No! Stupid! Don't fuck this…_

But Rachel smiled, her lips curving upwards ever so slightly. She bit her bottom lip, looking so inviting, and Chloe found herself leaning in once…

The sound of the train horn startled them both and they jumped up, the moment lost.

 _Shit! Shit! Shit! Did that… nearly happen?_

The train was close, and Rachel caught Chloe's hand, jumping up and starting forward.

"Okay," she said, as she started running, "just do what I do." She let go of Chloe's hand and Chloe began running behind her, both of them closing in on the passing train. "There!" said Rachel, pointing ahead at a truck. Its door was open and she put on a spurt, catching and swinging herself up onto the train. She held out a hand and Chloe grabbed it, grateful for the help as she, too, swung on to the train. Slightly out of breath, she put her hands on her knees and concentrated on her breathing.

"Where does this go?" she said, once her breathing had calmed down a bit.

"Not sure, really," said Rachel. "North? Maybe we'll end up in Seattle." She sat on a crate and motioned for Chloe to do the same. Chloe found one at the back of the truck and moved it, with some difficulty, sitting herself down and facing Rachel.

 _Ok. You're on a train. With Rachel Amber. With Rachel freakin' Amber. Who, a few moments ago looked like she wanted you to kiss her. Is that… real? Does this actually happen? Okay Chloe, play it cool. Don't start freaking out or nothing, okay? Wish Max was here, she'd get me through this… what is it? Nervousness? Should I say something? Should I try to act cool? Or should I just stay quiet, and wait for her to say something?_

It was at that point that all semblance of conversation left Chloe.

"Uhh, so… uhh, like…" she said, and Rachel laughed.

"Are you okay?" she said, leaning forward in amusement.

"What?"

"You look… you're acting kinda nervous," said Rachel. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I mean, I'm fine… I guess," said Chloe, still stumbling over her words. "I'm just…"

"Just what? Are you nervous of… of me?" Rachel sounded amused, and Chloe began to blush.

"What? Me? No, of course not, why would I…" said Chloe, but Rachel held her hand up and Chloe stopped talking.

"Chloe," said Rachel, gently. "Listen to me. You don't have to wear your mask around me, okay?" She looked around, gesturing at the countryside that was passing by. "There's just the two of us here, nobody's going to see you except me. And I'm not going to judge you. Just be… Chloe Price. That's the girl I want to see, okay?"

"I don't understand," said Chloe.

"I mean, just be yourself, Chloe. I don't want the mask, or the façade, or anything else other than the real you."

"That's… not gonna be easy," said Chloe. "I mean, I've worn this 'mask' for a year now. It's not that easy just to take off. And…"

"And what?"

"I mean, I don't really know you, do I?"

"Not yet," said Rachel, smiling gently. "But I'd like to get to know you, and I'd like for you to get to know me." She nodded. "Okay, I get it's not easy to do. But could you at least try. Especially when it's just the two of us?"

Chloe thought for a moment, then nodded. "Okay," she said. "I'll try. But I'm not promising anything."

"Couldn't ask for more," said Rachel. "You know, it's kind of weird that we're hanging out," she continued, changing the subject. "Not bad weird, mind, just… unexpected weird."

"You mean because I don't hang out with anyone and I don't have any friends."

"You have friends, don't you?" said Rachel, frowning.

"Well, I used to. Friend. Singular. Her name was…" Chloe had to stop talking for a moment, she felt that familiar lump in her throat. "We were… closer than sisters, but she's left for pastures new, more green, more northern. More… not here, not me."

"I'm sorry, Chloe," said Rachel. "That sucks. But you're wrong about one thing."

"What's that?" said Chloe, quietly. The thought of Max had hit her far harder than she's expected, and her head was down.

"You _do_ have a friend." Rachel paused. "Me."

Chloe brought her head up. "You? My friend?"

"Well, yeah. You don't share the sort of night we had last night without becoming good friends, do you?"

"I guess not."

Rachel pouted. "Don't you want to be friends with me?" she said.

"Look, I'm just… I'm fucked up," said Chloe. "You're probably better off getting to know other people. Like that Victoria girl. She's going to have all the power in the school one day. She's the sort of person you want to get in bed with."

"But she's a total cow," said Rachel. "In fact, I'd go so far as to describe her as a hippo-rhinostricow."

"Um, what the fuck is one of those?"

"You mean you don't know?"

"Of course I don't! What is it?"

"Dammit, I was hoping you'd tell me," said Rachel, laughing. "I've no idea, I just made it up now! But whatever it is, she's one. She's exactly the sort of person you use and abuse, not actually be friends with. Mark my words, that's what she'll do with her 'friends' in the future. And anyway, get in bed with? Are you propositioning me, Ms Price? Is that it? Do you want to 'get in bed with me?'" Chloe couldn't speak. Rachel grinned at her discomfort, but finally relented. "Ah, I was just teasing," she said, winking. "Or was I?" Chloe looked sharply at Rachel, but her eyes were just twinkling. "Look, I'll lay it out for you," she said, "because I don't think you'll betray any trust I put in you. Am I right?"

"Who would I betray you to?" said Chloe. "I don't talk to anyone, and they don't want anything to do with me. Just how I like it."

"Good." Rachel took a deep breath and looked directly into Chloe's eyes. Chloe felt her eyes boring into her; they sparkled with a fierce intensity that she couldn't quite shake. She shivered but didn't look away. "Okay. I'm popular. I know that I'm popular, and I make use of it to get what I want. I know I'm doing it, I'm doing it deliberately, and quite possibly it's not something I really should be doing. However, I'm sure you know it's dog-eat-dog in school, so any advantage I can get over others I'll take." She paused, then shook her head. "But that's not who I am, Chloe. That's just who I have to be in school to get and stay ahead of the curve. At home, I love my mom and dad, I read books, I watch the television, and I spend time in my room checking social media to try and get that advantage I mentioned earlier. I do this because…" Here Rachel stopped talking and Chloe thought she could see a tear forming in those deep, beautiful eyes. "Because I'm lonely. Yes, I'm popular, but I don't have any friends. I don't have anyone I can sit down and talk trash with, cry with, laugh with. Someone I can rely on, someone who can rely on me. Someone I can talk to about my deepest fears, my darkest secrets, and share my best moments with. I don't have that. And I want it. I want a friend, Chloe. I want a best friend." Rachel stopped talking and just gazed at Chloe for a full minute. "I think you might just be that person," she said. "Not to put any pressure on you." She laughed, but then looked serious again. "Sorry if I've scared you," she said.

"Not scared," said Chloe, trying hard to get the words through the lump in her throat. "Well, you didn't scare me. A little bit overwhelmed, if I'm honest."

"How come?"

"Because you just described me perfectly, exactly how I've been since Ma… my friend left. See," Chloe paused to take a deep breath, "I want a friend like that too, but I'm… scared, I guess."

"Scared of what, exactly?"

"Being abandoned again," said Chloe. Her voice had gone very quiet, and she couldn't look at Rachel. "It hurt enough the last time."

"I can't promise that," said Rachel. "I've no idea what will happen in the future. I know what I'd _like_ to happen, which is that you and I become great friends. I'd like that very much, but I don't know. I may not even be alive in three years' time."

"Don't say that," said Chloe. "That's horrible."

"It might be true," said Rachel. "We don't know the future, we can only change it, just like we can't change the past, we only know it."

"Jesus, Rache, that's… that's deep'n'shit," said Chloe, but Rachel didn't smile, she just continued to look directly at Chloe.

She took a breath. "All I know is now. I'd like to try. Take a risk. Chloe the risk-taker, right?" When Chloe didn't answer, she continued. "Anyway, I bet you're wondering what we're doing."

"The thought had occurred to me, yeah," said Chloe. "Look, I'm not against the idea of a friend, and the thought of being friends, _proper_ friends with you is appealing. So why don't we just see how it goes. No pressure."

"Deal. That sounds… nice actually," said Rachel. "See where it goes." She smiled. "So, the reason I asked you here today is, well, the truth is… I wanted some company."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"There's gotta be more than that. Why today, of all days?"

"Not yet," said Rachel, looking a little uncomfortable. "Later, okay?"

"Fine by me," said Chloe. "Good to fucking go. Anything beats another second in Blackhell."

"You really hate it there, don't you?"

"You don't?" She scoffed. "Right. What reason would Rachel Amber have for hating Blackhell?"

"You don't know me. Yet."

"True. I know very little about you, except your taste in music and dress sense," said Chloe, smiling. Rachel looked at her, then sprang to her feet.

"Okay, we're all alone here," she said. "Let's do something fun."

"Um, V-card's been punched, Rachel, I'm sorry," said Chloe, then realised what she'd said and immediately turned red. Rachel's face lit up with glee.

"Wow!" she said.

Chloe looked away, her face burning. "Too much too soon?" Rachel laughed.

"Well," she said, biting her lip again, "I don't know…"

"Okay," said Chloe, breaking in, "something fun. I'm in." At her change of tone, Rachel stood and sat on the floor of the truck, her legs hanging over the edge.

"I know a game," she said. "It's called 'Two truths and a lie.'" Chloe came to join her and they sat, legs swinging, watching the world go by.

"Two whats and a what?"

"It's a game," said Rachel. "A way of getting to know each other. Each person offers up three facts about themselves, two of which are true, and one of which is…"

"… a lie?"

"Exactly," she said. "And then the other person has to guess which is which."

"Uh, I'm not very good with people," said Chloe.

"Go on," said Rachel. "It'll be fun, I promise."

"Well, okay," conceded Chloe. "I guess I can't be that bad. Go on, you start."

"Letting the lady go first? My kind of gal," said Rachel, with a smirk, bumping her shoulder on Chloe's. "Okay. One, I'm ambidextrous." She whirled both her hands in the air in front of Chloe, grinning. "Second, I was bon in New York, the land of fashion and Broadway, to which I will one day return when my heinous exile here in Arcadia Bay comes to an end."

"New York, huh? I've never been."

"Not a world traveller?"

"Not yet, at least," said Chloe. "Maybe one day, who knows?"

"Okay. If you could travel anywhere, where would you go? Russia? Greece? Kathmandu?"

"Kathmandu? I don't even know where that is."

"Nor me. Saw it on a textbook once, thought it sounded exotic."

"Paris."

"What?"

"You asked me where I'd like to go. Paris," said Chloe. "I've always wanted to go there."

"Nice. Romantic. You'd go on your own, or take someone special."

"I… don't know?"

"Would you take me?" said Rachel, her eyes twinkling mischievously once again. Chloe coughed hard and Rachel burst out laughing. "Okay, I'm teasing, I'm teasing, Chloe. Don't you dare die on me!" She continued laughing until Chloe recovered. "Sorry," she said, "just being naughty." She grinned. "Anyway, one day I'm going to climb Everest."

"Everest? Wow. Suddenly moving away from Arcadia is totally unambitious! So what's your third thing?"

"My third thing?"

"Two truths and a lie. You've told me two things."

"Oh yeah, my third thing. I'm a Leo. Meow."

"So, ambidextrous, New York, Leo."

"Which is not true?" said Rachel, looking at Chloe expectantly.

"Ambidextrous," said Chloe, after a thought. "I don't buy it."

"No? Well, that's too bad," said Rachel, with a twinkle in her eye, because it's true, I'm afraid."

"Really?"

"Really."

Chloe looked at her disbelievingly for a moment, then pulled out a black marker. "Prove it. Sign your name with both hands."

"Sign where, exactly?" At this, Chloe raised her eyebrows, then broke into laughter.

"Really?" she said, gesturing around her. "We're in a truck. All the bad girls do it." She offered the marker to Rachel, who took it and signed her name on the floor of the truck with her right hand. Then, as Chloe watched, she did the same with her left.

"Damn," said Chloe. "Nice skill to have. In that case, the New York was a lie."

"Yup," said Rachel, "I'm a Cali girl. West Coast is the best coast."

"I've only ever lived in Oregon," said Chloe, "so nothing to compare it to."

"Then that's something we'll have to change, won't we?" said Rachel, smiling gently to Chloe. She handed the marker back, her hand lingering as it touched Chloe's. "Okay, your turn, Price."

"Right. Let's do this," said Chloe, thinking hard. "One. One time, I broke my hand punching Stephanie Kowalski in the fifth grade."

"No way," said Rachel.

"Bitch took my yoo-hoo. Knocked her the fuck out," said Chloe, holding out her hand.

"Your yoo-hoo gets swiped, there's gotta be consequences. Sweet scar."

"Two, I used to want to be a pirate when I grew up. I kind of still do. Captain Chloe!"

"Arr!"

"That's the spirit, First mate Amber," said Chloe, grinning. "And finally, which is a bit sad, since you're a Leo and all, but I'm allergic to cats."

"Are you now?"

"Swear."

"Hmm." Rachel took Chloe's hand in her own, slowly stroking it.

 _That's… nice._

"You're hella mysterious, Chloe Price."

"Hella?"

"It's a Cali thing."

"No, I've heard it before. From Ma… my friend, before she left. She came out with it, all of a sudden. I'll never forget, it was the day that…" Chloe stopped. "I'm… not ready to talk about that, Rachel, not yet."

"Hey, that's fine," said Rachel. "Being friends means you don't get judged, you can stop whenever you want, and you have total veto over any subject, without question. Anyway, I think I have your number."

"Go on then."

"Okay." Rachel thought for a moment. "Your alleged cat allergy."

"Alleged?"

"I'm calling bullshit."

"Why is that?"

"I mean, maybe you _are_ allergic. It's certainly possible, but I've passed by your locker a few times, and I've seen that old photo of a cat you keep in there."

Chloe smiled. "His name was Bongo. He was a gift from my Dad."

"Did he pass away?"

"Yeah, Dad died two years ago. I thought everyone knew th…" She stopped.

"I meant Bongo."

"Oh, my god, of course that's what you meant. I'm sorry."

"Hey, that's okay. That's what you nearly told me earlier, wasn't it?" Chloe nodded. "Don't worry about it, Chloe."

"Awkward moment of the year award?"

"Definitely a contender."

"Now to the broken hand story. It's not that I don't think you could knock Stephanie out. A bitch takes your yoo-hoo, she's gotta pay."

"Damn straight."

"But I'm calling bullshit. You didn't get that scar from punching someone."

"Oh?"

"That, my dear, is a distal radius fracture."

"Damn girl, you're a physician as well?"

"I broke my wrist when I was ten."

"Ah. Bet you look good in scrubs," said Chloe, feeling her heart beating wildly. She began to blush.

"Maybe I'll give you a show one day," said Rachel, smirking. "The point is," she continued, bringing the subject back around, "I know that the scar you've got comes from breaking your wrist when you fall off a skateboard."

"Yeah."

"I'm guessing, six years ago," said Rachel, taking Chloe's hand again and looking closely at the scar. Her fingers delicately stroked the back of Chloe's hand, causing a small shiver to shoot down the her spine.

 _Mmm…_

"Seven, actually. Well shit," said Chloe. "Always thought I was a good liar."

"Good thing you're pretty then," said Rachel, coquettishly, causing another small blush from Chloe. "Which brings me to your pirate fantasy. Of course you wanted to be a pirate. Who doesn't? Sail the seven seas…"

"Buckle swash…"

"Plunder secret treasure."

"Did I mention my love of booty?"

"Good thing I've got a good one, then," said Rachel, flicking her hair, arching her back, patting her behind and grinning. "So, pirate. True."

"Maybe you'd like to be my First Mate?"

"Oh, are you accepting applications?"

"Considering it," said Chloe.

"So, if my math is correct, and it always is, you cheated. You told two lies and a truth."

"I got confused."

"Rubbish."

"I lost count."

"Impossible."

"Maybe I just wanted to test you."

"Maybe you have trust issues," said Rachel, countering.

"Well, we know I do, that's not news," said Chloe. "We did establish this earlier. But you _are_ crazy good at this game, you know."

"A lifetime studying the human condition," said Rachel. "Gets you good at it."

"Well, you can colour me impressed."

"I bet it's hard to impress you, Chloe Price," Rachel said, smiling. "I'm going to feel good about that for a long time. But, when your dad is the District Attorney, I guess lying is… something you get used to."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Great! I know who to call if I need to get out of a ticket then," said Chloe, grinning widely. "Not that I have my own ride yet. Car first, embarrassing number of moving violations second."

"I'll look forward to that. Hey, and thanks for trusting me."

"Trusting you?" Chloe frowned.

"You may have cheated, but you played the game. You told me one truth. Actually, you told me a couple of others as well. So, thanks. And anyway, not many would own up to wanting to be a pirate."

"But eye patches are cool."

"And rum is delicious. And I loooove booty," said Rachel, wiggling her backside. "But thanks. You opened up a bit."

"It's not a big deal."

"Actually, I'd disagree with that, Chloe," said Rachel. "We know you have trust issues, so opening up to me, even a little, is a big deal."

"Trust doesn't come easy to me, you know."

"I get that."

"Then again, I did get on this train with you, didn't I?"

"Fair point," said Rachel. They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Chloe noticed the bracelet that Rachel was wearing.

"Cool bracelet," she said, and Rachel nodded.

"I've had it, I guess, since I was a kid in Long Beach. Reminds me that there's far more out there to experience than just Arcadia Bay. Maybe one day I'll go back to Long Beach, or somewhere else. Anywhere that isn't here. Maybe sooner rather than later." Rachel's voice had taken on a determined tone, one that resonated with Chloe.

"I hear you," she said, by way of reply. "Arcardia can go suck a bag of dicks."

"Sometimes I wonder why I'm still here. I've no reason to stay." She turned to look at Chloe. "Don't be surprised if one day, I'm just out of here."

"That I can understand," said Chloe. "I've had the same thoughts myself. Let me know if you need an accomplice." They lapsed back into silence, until Rachel shouted out, rousing Chloe from her thoughts.

"We're here!"

"What?" said Chloe. "Where is here?"

"Jump and find out," said Rachel.

"What?"

"Jump!"

"Are you mad?"

"Come on, Chloe Price, don't be shy," said Rachel, looking at Chloe. There was a steely intensity back in her eyes. "Jump." In that moment, Chloe understood.

"Fuck it," she said, closing her eyes and jumping. Behind her, Rachel smiled wide and followed her.


	14. Overlook

The train cars pulled slowly away as Chloe followed Rachel up the path. They'd jumped off at the old park, a lovely, quiet, secluded spot away from the humdrum of life with trees, running water, picnic tables, paths…

 _It's actually really peaceful here._

 _This is… weird. I mean, I'm following Rachel freaking Amber around the park! It's… surreal. Really surreal._

Rachel did seem to be in a bit of a hurry. Every now and then she'd check her watch and look around. For what, Chloe had no idea. They could see trees, lots and lots of trees. There were a few other people milling around. Chloe did notice a woman in a white dress standing at the base of one of the larger trees, but no sooner did she stop to look than Rachel caught her hand and pulled her along the path.

"Rachel, wait," panted Chloe, "please."

"It's just a little further," said Rachel, pulling her along the path.

"Where are we going?"

"The Overlook," she said, pointing up. Chloe looked up to see the path winding its way through the forest and the rocks, reaching what was colloquially known as 'The Overlook', an area which offered up the best aerial view of the surrounding park. She recognised it as somewhere William had taken her and Max many years ago, although she was no longer familiar with the place. "Come on, it's not far now."

"Why are going up there?"

"You'll see," said Rachel, "when we get there. Come on!"

…

"I hate you," panted Chloe, sinking to her knees and drawing in great lungfuls of air. "I hate you, Rachel Amber."

"No you don't," said Rachel, smiling, putting her hand on Chloe's shoulder. "You need to get a little fitter, that's all."

"I walk everywhere, dude," said Chloe.

"You need to walk further then. Or eat less shit."

"Are you actually saying that?" said Chloe. "For real?" She looked up at Rachel, who, to her credit, looked slightly abashed.

"Sorry," she said. "That… came out differently than I meant."

"Yeah, well, you'd better be," said Chloe, sounding slightly annoyed. "Okay, so now we're here," she continued, getting to her feet and looking around, "this is actually a pretty nice view." The Overlook didn't disappoint. You could see for miles. In fact, Chloe found that if she squinted, she could actually see the remnants of the train they'd hitched a ride on, winding past a…

 _Is that a junk heap? That looks… potential. It has potential. Ooooo, we could spend time there. Like, like a…_

"Glad you approve," said Rachel, checking her watch once more. "And, as your reward for making it up here in piece, I have a new game for us to play."

"Really? Another game?" said Chloe. "I think I'm all gamed out, Rache."

"Chloe, I like games," said Rachel, "so deal with it. Anyway, this one I learned about in drama class. It's fun. It's all about improvisation."

"Aw man, I'm shit at that," said Chloe.

"Somehow, I don't think you are," said Rachel, carefully. "Somehow, I think you have a talent for acting."

"Look, I get that all the world's a stage and shit, but I'm no actor."

"Funny that," said Rachel. "I see you acting tough in school all the time."

"I… that's…" fumbled Chloe, then she gave up. "Dammit!" Rachel giggled. "That's not fair!" protested Chloe, causing Rachel to continue to giggle.

"This game involves spying on people from afar," she said, sparking Chloe's interest. "Luckily for us, we have access to the latest, state-of-the-art high-tech surveillance equipment in which to commence our spyage."

"You mean the telescope," said Chloe, dryly. "That one, there?" She pointed to one of the two viewfinder/telescopes that had been erected at the Overlook to allow people to enjoy the view.

"Exactly," said Rachel, not rising to the bait, much to Chloe's chagrin. "Let's fire it up, shall we?" She inserted a quarter into the right-hand telescope and put her eye to the viewfinder. "Funny," she said, "can't see anything." She looked again, then hit the telescope a couple of times. "Can't seem to…"

"Look," said Chloe, pointing to the 'Out of Order' sign on the telescope. "I think it might not be working."

"Gee, thanks Sherlock," said Rachel.

Chloe grinned and began examining the telescope, puffing on an imaginary pipe. "Elementary, my dear Amber," she said, sounding far more like Sean Connery than Sherlock Holmes. "Using my super-deducing-powers, I can confirm that this telescope is, to use the technical term… fucked."

"Well, shit," said Rachel, losing her jollity. "That was my last quarter. You got one?"

"Sorry, quarterless," said Chloe. Rachel looked so downcast at this that it got Chloe thinking.

 _She really wants to use that telescope. I mean, this is far more than for a silly game, right? That's why she's so pissed that it didn't work._

"Maybe I can MacGyver something up," said Chloe, and Rachel visibly brightened.

"Really?"

"I've been told I'm pretty handy, you know," said Chloe, smiling in what she hoped was a reassuring way.

"Who by?" asked Rachel with raised eyebrows. She obviously didn't believe Chloe.

"Meh, one of the people that don't totally ignore me. I forget who," said Chloe, still smiling. "It looks like that telescope over there works." She pointed to the other telescope, but Rachel shook her head.

"But we don't have a quarter."

"Yet," corrected Chloe.

"What?"

"We don't have a quarter, _yet_ ," said Chloe. "Just you wait there for a moment, see what I can conjure up." She looked at the telescope. It was quite a simple design, with a metal plate covering what would be the coin bucket.

 _Our quarter is in there. Maybe with some other quarters? So close, I just need to…_

"I need to pry open that plate there," said Chloe, pointing. "You have a knife on you?"

"A knife?"

"Yeah, you know, sharp pointy thing. Useful for stabbing rabbits."

"I know what a knife is," said Rachel, beginning to laugh. "Stabbing rabbits?"

"Hey, I needed to think of something quick."

"You need one?"

"Yeah, my mom took mine the other day," said Chloe. "Still bummed about that."

"Sorry," said Rachel, looking through her bag, "but how about this?" She held up a nail file.

"We could try," said Chloe, dubiously. She took the nail fail and assumed a ninja stance. "I _guess_ you could stab a rabbit with it," she said, laughing. She tried to pry open the plate, but the nail file wasn't strong enough. "I don't want to snap it," she said. "Wait here. I'll see if I can find something with a little more _oomph_."

 _Well, that was a bust. Damn, it always looks so easy in the movies._

 _Damn you Hollywood, for lying to me! Damn you all to hell!_

She wandered off, looking around the Overlook for anything she could use. As she did so, her phone buzzed. It was a text.

 _ICKY VICKY [CHLOE PRICE]_

 _CHLOE [Um, you know my name now, do you?]_

 _ICKY VICKY [I heard some fucked up shit about you]_

 _CHLOE [Oh really? I'm guessing that's not hard to come by. You're gonna have to narrow it down a little. You know, 'cos of all the fucked up shit I did]_

 _ICKY VICKY [I was talking to Nathan]_

 _CHLOE [Oh yeah, that prick. He wasn't very nice to me this morning, you know]_

 _VICTORIA [Just who do you think you are?]_

 _VICTORIA [You don't know anything about him, you dumb fuckup]_

 _VICTORIA [Just go back to your trailer, trash]_

 _CHLOE [Oh, I see what you did there]_

 _VICTORIA [By the way, just for totes info, you were totally played last night by Rachel Amber. You'll be lucky if she ever speaks to you again]_

 _CHLOE [Oh shit, why didn't I see that? Rachel will never talk to me again. You're so right]_

 _CHLOE [I'm feeling so hurt right now. So hurt. Right to the bone]_

 _VICTORIA [This is just the beginning, bitch]_

 _VICTORIA [You'd better watch your back]_

 _CHLOE [I'm literally quaking in my boots right now. You have scared me so much I think I might even need to pee]_

 _CHLOE [Oh and you can tell that fucked up boyfriend of yours, if he wants me to stand up for him, he might want to practice doing the same for me. Or anyone else, come to that, You know, rather than slamming me into the ground without even an apology. Basic manners go a long way, don't they?]_

 _CHLOE [Karma's a bitch, aint it?]_

 _Rachel sounds… distracted at the moment. In actual fact, she's been… different since we jumped off the train. She was in a hurry to get up here, now that we're here, she's… she's not herself._

 _Mind you, this could be her normal self. It's not like you know her._

 _True, but… after last night and this morning, she does seem… distracted._

She looked around but couldn't see anything obvious. She wandered off a little further and came across a couple setting out a picnic on one of the covered picnic tables.

"… and I've been saying 'sorry' all morning, okay?" said the man, as Chloe approached. "I admit, it was really dumb to lock us out of the car, but come on! You've been on my case for three hours, dammit!"

"I just wanted today to go smoothly, okay?" said the woman. "I'm sorry, I got pissed at you."

"Which is absolutely fine for you," said the man, "but when I get pissed about something, whoa, it's like 'call the divorce attorney'. It's like I'm not allowed to get pissed at you."

"Do you even _want_ something to eat?" said the woman, standing up. "Because, you know, I'm suddenly not hungry anymore."

"Oh, terrific," said the man. "Just _great_. I'm so glad we took the time to come all the way our here. On my day off, too."

"Don't you _dare_ make this about me, you…"

"Excuse me," said Chloe, breaking in. "I'm sorry to bother you, I was just wanting to know if you had some spare change. Or a spare knife, maybe?" As soon as she'd asked the question, she could have kicked herself as she saw the look on the woman's face.

"A… a knife?" said the woman.

"Spare change?" said the man. "I'm so sorry," he continued, without looking in his pockets, "we don't have anything. I guess we might have some spare food for you when we're done."

"What? No, I'm not a…" said Chloe, throwing her hands in the air. "I mean, look I was just wanting to… wait a sec, what kind of food?"

"Aw man," said the guy, whispering to his ladyfriend. "This place really has gone downhill."

"I'm, like, right here," said Chloe. "I _can_ hear you, you know. Just thought I'd let you know. Okay, you don't have spare change, that's fine, even though I know you didn't look in your pocket that was jangling with change there. You also don't have that spare knife that's there on the table? Also absolutely fine. I'm so sorry to bother you ladies," she said. "Thanks for your ass…" She shook her head and walked off.

Chloe walked back towards Rachel. She was passing a park bench when a flash of something caught her eye. Looking at the bench, she could see that it had one of those plaques that commemorated someone attached to it. Looking around, she quickly unscrewed the plate (it said 'Martin Lewis Prescott' so it really didn't count) and headed back to Rachel. On the way, she felt her phone buzz again.

 _Fuck off, Vicky._

She unlocked her phone, but it wasn't another text for Victoria.

 _STEPH [Hey Chloe]_

 _CHLOE [Hey Steph. Wassup?]_

 _STEPH [A heads up. Your absence from school has been noticed]_

 _CHLOE [Shit. Who by?]_

 _STEPH [Ms Grant, I think. Did you have chem first period?]_

 _CHLOE [Yeah. And I promised her I'd be there. Double shit. I'm guessing she didn't keep this info to herself?]_

 _STEPH [Nope. Wells is on the warpath]_

 _CHLOE [Oh no!]_

 _STEPH [Seriously, Chloe. I'm just trying to help]_

 _CHLOE [Yeah, right! You killed me this morning!]_

 _STEPH [I'm a GM. That's what I do, dude]_

 _STEPH [Oh, and thanks for playing with us this morning. Mikey had a blast]_

 _STEPH [Actually, so did I]_

 _CHLOE [Mikey's cool]_

 _STEPH [Yeah. He's been down a lot recently. Not entirely sure why. But I know you playing with us this morning helped a lot. Even if you did sever his legs]_

 _CHLOE [LOL. That was sweet]_

 _STEPH [Thanks, Chloe]_

 _CHLOE [Don't sweat it. Thanks for the info]_

Chloe put her phone away and headed back to Rachel. "Ask and ye shall receive," she said, prying the plate away from the telescope. "Prescott power, activate!" After a little effort, the plate bent sufficiently for her to be able to retrieve the quarter; to her disappointment, theirs was the only quarter in the telescope. Others had obviously seen the 'Out of Order' sign before falling foul of the quarter-eater. She turned to Rachel in triumph, offering up the retrieved quarter.

"I don't want to boast..." she said, "so I'll let you do it for me."

"Chloe Price," said Rachel, with reverence in her voice, "you truly are the telescope whisperer. I stand in awe of your ultimate power." She inserted the quarter into the telescope and they both looked through it, taking one eye each.

 _Jasmine. She smells of… jasmine._

"Alright, here's the game," said Rachel. "It's quite simple. You find some people for us to spy on, then you and I will act out what they're saying and thinking. Or at least, what they _could_ be saying and thinking. We have to keep it within the realms of possibilities, okay? So no dragons, or robot chickens, anything like that."

"That's it? I do that in my head, during, well, every class. It's the only thing keep me sa… well, maybe not," she grinned.

"See? You're a natural. Okay, let's give it a try," said Rachel. Chloe nodded and swung the telescope around, focusing on a grill.

"Hey, we could barbecue a coupla squirrels when we're done here," said Chloe, faking a southern redneck account. "Ah do declare, squirrels make fahne eatin'." Rachel giggled and bumped Chloe with her shoulder.

"You have the best ideas," she whispered. "What else?" Chloe swung it around further and settled on a woman, laying on the grass looking at a laptop.

"What about her? Sweet beanie," said Chloe, and beside her, Rachel nodded. "Sure, the view's great'n'all," said Chloe, taking on a low, mocking voice, "but I'd really rather look at pictures of nature on my computer. They're so realistic, you can almost believe you're actually there."

"Yeah," said Rachel, in a similar mocking tone, "the grass around here just isn't the right shade of green." Chloe giggled.

"It's so time for the machines to take over," she said. "Then I won't even have to think about it." This made Rachel laugh out loud, and Chloe smiled, feeling a flush of pleasure wash over her. They laughed together for a moment, then Chloe swung the telescope around to settle on a man doing some stretching exercises. They recognised him as the guy they'd seen on the way up; he was some kind of speedwalker, or mincer, or something similar. "Loving this guy," she said.

"What's he thinking?" said Rachel.

"Only two more miles to go," said Chloe, adopting an out-of-breath voice. "Then the beef steak between my ass-cheeks should be nice and tender!" Again, Rachel laughed out loud.

"So tragic," she said, "but, in its own way, also so beautiful. You totally nailed it." She took over the telescope duties from Chloe, swinging around to settle on a couple, walking along holding hands. "Those two," she said.

"Okay." Chloe thought for a moment, then took on a low, raspy voice. "Would you like to come home and see my record collection?"

"Oh, yes please," said Rachel, in a high-pitched squeak. "Is this the sort of collection where we have to get under the covers to really appreciate the acoustical value of the timbre?"

"Uh, yeah, whatever," said Chloe, a little taken aback. "But, to be totally honest, clothes kinda mess with the acoustics, so…" She couldn't hold it in any longer and broke out laughing, joined by Rachel for a few moments. "Timbre?" she said, still laughing.

"My dad is always going on about it, whenever they go to a concert or opera or some shit," said Rachel. "I've no idea what it means."

"Damn, you sounded totally real there," said Chloe, calming down. "Like you totally knew what you were talking about."

"And _that's_ exactly what the best improv is all about," said Rachel. "Sounding believable, even if you're talking about total bullshit."

"Damn, girl, you're good," said Chloe.

"Don't put yourself down," said Rachel. "You're not so bad yourself, you know. Come on, find me another." Chloe nodded and they looked through the telescope once more. Chloe swung it around, searching, and finally settled on a woman in a white dress. She recognised her as the one she'd seen earlier, waiting underneath the large tree. As they watched, she was approached by a man in a suit and they embraced. "Whoa, jackpot!" said Chloe. "Commence make-out session in three, two, one… aaaand go!" On her mark, the two started kissing. "Nailed it," she crowed, then, looking closer, "damn, they're _really_ going at it." She put on her mocking voice. "Oh honey, you're the best, although I think we used the…" She stopped talking as she realised that Rachel was no longer beside her. Taking a step away from the telescope, she saw Rachel a little way off, looking down at the tree and the couple beneath it. "Rachel?" When Rachel didn't answer, Chloe walked over to her. "Hey, are you okay?"

"What are we doing?" said Rachel, and Chloe took a step back. Her voice was… different. Very different. There was a burning intensity to it now, no trace of the joviality that she'd displayed while looking through the telescope.

"What do you mean?" said Chloe, confused. "We're here, looking through the…"

"Last I checked, you're supposed to be Chloe Price," said Rachel.

"Last I checked, I was," said Chloe, still confused as to where this was going, but Rachel sounded almost… hostile.

 _What's going on? Did I do something wrong?_

 _You stupid girl, you've fucked this up, just like everything else in your life._

 _No, I mean, she was…_

 _Get real, Chloe. You can't keep a friend, so why try?_

 _No, that's not fair. She's just…_

 _You fucked up. Plain and simple._

"We've ditched school for hours now and we haven't even got wasted. That's got to be against some school ditching rule, right?"

"Um, yeah, I guess," said Chloe. "I mean, the honour student wants to show the school delinquent how to party?" She shrugged, her arms in the air. "Be my guest."

"Well, how gracious of you," said Rachel, turning and walking away, walking so quickly that Chloe had to jog to keep up. They reached the spot where the couple Chloe had seen earlier were still picnicking. "Right. They have wine."

"They do have wine," said Chloe. "What of it?"

"Let's liberate it," said Rachel.

"Um, we could do that," said Chloe, "or we could go find a liquor store instead?"

"No way, nuh-uh," said Rachel. "You don't bring alcohol to the public park if you're not willing to share it with everyone, right?"

"I… guess." In all honesty, Rachel was beginning to scare Chloe. There seemed to be a certain recklessness about her that was worrying, and Chloe was beginning to look ahead and realise that she wasn't actually in control of the situation at all.

 _How far do I go with this?_

 _How far will Rachel take it?_

 _How far will I follow her?_

 _Is a friendship with her worth the risk?_

 _It is… kinda exciting, though. Kinda… exhilarating._

"Fuck it, I just want to take something that's not mine," said Rachel, and turned back towards the picnickers. "Alright, I'm going in. Try to keep up," she said not giving Chloe a chance to reply, and marched over to the couple, who seemed to have forgotten (or forgiven) their argument from earlier.

 _Shit!_

"Um, can we help you?" said the woman, noticing Rachel approaching her. She soon became quite concerned as Rachel seemed to have difficulty breathing and suddenly, without warning, her legs gave way and she collapsed heavily to the ground. "Oh my god! Are you okay?" she screamed as Rachel moaned and lay still.

 _Holy shit! Talk about method acting, Rachel's putting everything into…_

 _But is she? She's just lying there. She's expecting you to do all the work, do the actual stealing. Right?_

 _I… guess._

 _She said she wanted to steal something. But she's not actually doing it. You are. So put up or shut up, yeah?_

"Do something!" screamed the woman at her companion, but he simply shrugged his shoulders.

"What do we do?" he said, and the woman looked straight at him with incredulity.

"Didn't you used to be a lifeguard?" she said. "Give her CPR or something, whatever it is you do!"

Chloe crept over towards the picnic table. The couple had left it clear to go and help Rachel, and the bottle of wine was standing there, just asking to be taken.

"That was years ago!" said the man. "You think I remember?"

"What, how to save someone's life? You think that's the sort of thing you'll ever forget?" The bottle of wine was almost in reach, and Chloe's heart was pounding.

"Well, yeah," said the guy. "I mean, I've never had to use it before, and…"

"Well, there's always a first time," said the woman. "Quick! It's like riding a bike, isn't it?"

"If it's so easy, then why don't _you_ do it?" he said, and the woman slapped him soundly.

"Don't yell at me!" she screamed. "This poor girl needs our help. So help her!" Chloe reached out for the bottle, but unfortunately the woman spun around in her frustration and saw her. "Oh thank god," she said, calming down a little. "This poor girl's in trouble. Can you go and get some help, please?"

"Um, yeah," said Chloe, standing up, but the woman recognised her.

"Wait, aren't you the one from before, the vagrant?"

"Excuse me?" said Chloe, feeling her temper rise.

"Yeah, you were out looking for money. And a knife. Whoever knows what for. To rob us, probably."

"Really?" said Chloe. "You automatically assume that, do you?"

"Well, what else would you need a knife for, if not to threaten us?"

"Well, for one thing," said Chloe, the heat rising to her face, "if I _was_ going to threaten you with a knife, I wouldn't be asking you for one. Just think about that for a moment, yeah? And secondly, just because I wanted a knife, doesn't mean I wanted it for any sort of nefarious purpose. And yeah, I know big words, so just think about that, too. What I _actually_ wanted was a quarter. Just one quarter, because I wanted to look through the telescope up there. I put a quarter into the machine, but it was broken and I didn't have another. The knife, well, I was actually just looking for a tool to repair a bench up there," she continued, trying hard not to lose her. "Someone had defaced the dedication plate, but thanks to you, I wasn't able to do that."

"Yeah, whatever," said the woman, waving her arm, "just go and get help, will you? I'll do what I can here." She turned away, back towards Rachel, but then turned back a moment later. "What are you waiting for? Go!" Her dismissive attitude finally got the better of Chloe.

"Why don't you forget about me," she snapped, "and start focussing on Baywatch over there. Mr 'I don't remember how to do CPR, waaahh'." She turned to the man. "Come on dude, it's time to put up or shut up," she said.

"Watch out," said the man, "I'm going to check her pulse." He paused, then looked up. "It's, uh, on her neck, right?"

"Seriously?" said Chloe. "You were a lifeguard?"

"It was years ago!"

"And? It's like riding a bike, dude. You don't forget something like that. Well, not unless you're full of bullshit. I'm not sure you actually _were_ a lifeguard, you know."

"Quiet, both of you!" said the woman. "I still think you should go get help. There's a ranger station on the other side of the park, isn't there? If you run, you could get help quickly."

"Good point," said the man, sounding relieved. "We'll keep watch while you go."

"Really? Look at all the time you've wasted already. This woman obviously needs help. She needs mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, that's what she needs. Stat," said Chloe. She'd calmed down a bit, and was starting to enjoy the role.

"Nnnnnoooo," groaned Rachel, but Chloe couldn't help it.

"Yup, definitely mouth-to-mouth. Which of you bozos wants to volunteer?"

"Go on," said the woman to her partner, "you've done it before, right?" He looked up and took a deep breath.

"Okay, okay, you got this, you can do… nooooo, I can't do it!"

"Absolutely pathetic," said the woman. "I mean, really?" She turned back to Chloe. "Go and get help, love," she said. "This girl needs help from someone who actually knows what they're doing. Not this total bag of shit here."

"Hey!"

"Well that's what you are. You've been bigging yourself up all day, and now it comes down to it, now it actually comes down to brass tacks, now there's a girl who actually needs your help, you bottle it."

 _The bottle, yes. Can't lose sight of the prize._

 _Although, maybe it's time to double down, go with a little reverse psychology. I could have some fun with this._

"Okay, okay, I'm going," said Chloe, throwing her hands in the air. "But when the police show up, I really hope they don't arrest you."

"Arrest us?" said the woman. "Whatever for?"

"Good Samaritan law, ever heard of it?" said Chloe, trying to sound as authoritative as possible. "If you see someone in trouble and don't do everything you can to help, you're guilty as charged," she continued. "In fact, you can be guilty of homicide if, by your inaction, someone loses their life where you had a chance to help them. Do you want to be that person?" she said, taking a step towards the woman. "Do you?"

"For god's sake," screamed the woman to her partner. "Do something! Quick!"

"Okay, okay!" said the man in resignation. "I'm going in." He took a deep breath and leaned in towards Rachel. As his lips touched hers, she pushed him away and sprang to her feet.

"Hey, wow!" she said, breathing in deeply. "I think I'm feeling a lot better." She hugged the man, failing to see the glare that the woman was giving her. "You saved my life," she breathed, hugging him tightly. "From the bottom of my heart, thank you." As she was talking, Chloe managed to sneak the bottle and hide it behind her.

"Yeah, good work everyone," she said, walking away. Rachel also began walking away. As she did so, the woman grabbed her partner's arm.

"That was incredible," she said, hugging him close. "You're a hero."

"I… guess I am," said the man, thoughtfully. "Yeah, I'm a hero. I like that."

The girls ran to the parking lot, laughing. Rachel took the bottle of wine from Chloe and took a long swig from it, smacking her lips as she swallowed. She looked at Chloe and offered the bottle, Chloe accepting it gratefully and taking a long drink herself.

"Here, you earned it," said Rachel, but Chloe shook her head.

"Man, so did you!" she said, laughing. "That was awesome. I mean, I've heard of method acting before, but…"

"Elementary," said Rachel, laughing with Chloe. Now she had some wine in her, it seemed that her previous fun side had resurfaced. "The Good Samaritan law? I have to confess, I've never heard of that before."

"Me neither," said Chloe, and Rachel stopped dead, looking at her, then she broke out laughing.

"Damn girl!" said Rachel, taking the bottle and drinking again. "Remember what I said earlier about improv being believable. Fuck, you actually had _me_ believing you there! Nice one!" She offered up her hand for a high-five and Chloe accepting, smacking palms together.

"Thanks," said Chloe, flushing. "Never really thought of it as improv or acting before. Just thought I was daydreaming, or thinking up bullshit. But hey, I'll take the compliment."

"And one well eared," said Rachel. "Come on, let's walk. I am still sober. I don't want to be."


	15. American Rust

"Hey, wait up," said Chloe, struggling to keep up with Rachel as she strode purposefully through the forest. "Rachel, stop!" she called, but Rachel ignored her. She was still swigging from the bottle of wine, and carried on striding forward until the forest had parted to reveal the junkyard that Chloe had seen earlier through the telescope.

 _Neat, I wanted to see what this place was like._

Rachel finally came to a stop and Chloe caught up with her, breathing heavily. "Thanks," she wheezed. "Not sure I could have kept up with you much longer." While Rachel drank a little more, Chloe gazed around the place. It was a typical junkyard, it even _looked_ like a typical junkyard. There was junk dotted around all over the place, cars, boats, there was even a school bus. Who knew what treasures lay yonder?

 _This place is… seriously cool. So much potential._

"Hey, check this out," said Chloe, enthusiastically. "Whoa!"

"What?" said Rachel.

"This," said Chloe, gesturing around the junkyard. "It's cool."

"Great. It's a pile of trash." Rachel sounded totally bored and disinterested.

"Yeah, an _awesome_ pile of trash," said Chloe. "We should check it out. Explore."

"You have fun, Chloe," said Rachel, her voice still in that low monotone. "I'm just gonna go sit down."

 _Alright, something's up with Rachel._

 _What have you done?_

 _What do you mean, what have I done?_

 _You always do something to fuck up a good thing. And, after Max, Rachel has the potential to be the best thing that's happened to you in a long time._

 _Shut up._

 _You do. You also know I'm telling you the truth. So, what have you done to fuck this up?_

 _Nothing. I didn't do anything. I've been a good friend all day._

 _You must have done something. You always do._

 _Stop being so negative. It might not be me._

 _True. However, the laws of probability state that it is more likely to be you than not. A, I wrong?_

 _But…_

 _Am. I. Wrong?_

 _…_

 _I'll take your silence as a no, then._

 _Might not be me._

 _One way to find out, you know. Ask her._

"Is everything alright, Rachel?" said Chloe, frowning and turning to her friend. "You've been… different."

"Oh, really?" said Rachel, not bothering to turn her head. "And I guess that, after a single day, you know me so well that you can tell when I'm myself and when I'm not, is that it?"

"I meant…"

"… because I don't think you know me that well, Chloe Price," said Rachel, and now she turned to face her friend. "You know a couple of things about me, things I've _chosen_ to share with you, but you don't know me. You don't… know me," said Rachel, her voice rising and then falling as she slumped on to a crate.

"Wow, I've heard that actors can be moody, but…" said Chloe, trailing off. Rachel wasn't impressed.

"I'm not moody," she said, immediately. "I just need some space. Is that okay with you? Do I have your _permission_ , Chloe?"

"Okay," said Chloe, then turned back to Rachel. "Actually, since you're asking my permission, actually, no. I thought we were having a great day together. And yes, I know that I don't know you very well, but do credit me with some intelligence. I can see that you're upset, or angry, or some other negative emotion. I can see that, Rachel. It's as plain as day. I just wanna know why you're acting like this."

"I'm not acting anything, Chloe," said Rachel. "I just wanna be alone right now."

"Yeah, I get it," said Chloe. "It's fine. I know I'm not the easiest person to be around. I don't exactly have tons of experience with this whole 'friends' stuff."

"Not everything revolves around you, Chloe," said Rachel, rising to her feet. "Just saying."

"Hey, yeah, I get it, Rache," said Chloe. "I didn't say that it did. I'm just saying I understand."

"No, you don't," said Rachel, "you really don't. _Fuck!_ " As she swore, she threw the now-empty wine bottle at a barrel, where it smashed into a hundred pieces. "Fuck!" She groaned and sat back down, and Chloe frowned.

 _So she gets smashy when she's angry. Smashy and… hot. I can work with that._

She looked around and spotted a baseball bat standing in amongst the rubbish. Smiling, she swooped and picked it up, offering it to Rachel.

"Here," she said, "if you really wanna smash something, this should do the trick."

Rachel looked up at Chloe, then down at the bat. She looked back up at Chloe and stood up, taking the bat from her. Chloe smiled, but her smile soon vanished as Rachel threw the bat away. "I told you to leave me alone, Chloe," she said, sullenly. Suddenly Chloe's temper flared.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she said, balling her fists. "I know you're the fucking school princess and all, with the DA daddy and the perfect grades and all the fucking perfect little Victoria Chase clones kissing your perfect ass, but seriously… fuck you!" Rachel stood in silence for a few moments then nodded.

 _Fucking well done, Chloe. Well, that's the end of that._

 _What do you mean?_

 _Really? Do you want me to spell it out for you? She'll leave now, you watch._

"Great. Thanks for that, Chloe," said Rachel, turning and walking away. "Nice to know you care. I'm leaving. See you around. Or not. Whatever."

 _There you go. She's walking._

 _Fine._

 _No! Not fine! She's walking out of your life, Chloe. Does that mean anything to you?_

 _Why should it?_

 _Don't you remember what happened earlier, by the water tower?_

 _But…_

 _Don't be fucking stupid, Chloe. One of the reasons you ruin everything is that you have a self-destructive streak in you. Now, look what happened this morning. Do you want to see where it leads?_

 _What…_

 _Ok. I'll spell it out for you. Rache and Chlo-e sitting in the tree, K I S…_

 _Ok, ok!_

 _Do you like her?_

 _What's not to like?_

 _I mean, do you 'like' like her? You've certainly been flirting a bit today, and we both know she's been responding to you. So don't be a fucking pussy and don't let her walk out of your life because of your stupid crusade to fuck everything up and be the victim. Again._

 _Victim? Me?_

 _I'm not getting into this. She's walking. You wanna talk or you wanna do?_

As she began walking away, Chloe made her decision. "You can't leave," she called, but Rachel carried on walking. "Rachel!"

"Watch me," she said, without looking back.

"Rachel, wait!" called Chloe, the beginnings of tears forming in her eyes. "Please, Rachel, don't go!" That got through to her friend and she stopped walking, turning around to face Chloe.

"Why not? Why shouldn't I go? Especially after what you just said to me, Chloe. Give me one good reason why I should stay," she said, flinging her hands wide, and Chloe approached her, biting her lip nervously.

"Because," she said, hesitantly, "because I don't want to fuck this up the way I ruin everything else in my life."

 _Fucking well done, you tit! Real smooth, that was._

"And what exactly is 'this'?" said Rachel.

 _Oh fuck I don't know if I can do this._

"I mean… fuck," said Chloe, swallowing hard. "Are you actually going to make me say it?"

"Say what, exactly?" said Rachel, her voice easing slightly and her stance becoming less aggressive. Chloe swallowed hard before continuing.

"You know. Like a friendship. But… more."

"Ah," said Rachel, her face betraying no emotion or response, and Chloe continued quickly, starting to babble.

"I know, it's weird, right? It's just that… today was the best day I've had since… well, since my dad died. And when I almost ruined it just now, the way I ruin everything, it made me realise… whatever's going on between us is… it's special, Rache." She stopped and looked nervously at the other girl. "Come on, Rache, say something, please." The hope that appeared briefly on her face was dashed when Rachel's face fell, bringing with it definite tears.

"Chloe, I'm really sorry," she said, cutting a knife all the way into Chloe's heart, "I'm really, really sorry. But I… I can't." She took a deep breath. "Even if I may want to, I can't. I just can't, I'm really sorry." She closed the distance between the two and wiped a solitary tear off Chloe's cheek, embracing her as she did so.

"Why not?" said Chloe, tears forming in her eyes and she struggled to comprehend what Rachel was saying.

"Because I just can't," she said. "I know it isn't fair," she continued, "but that's how it is." She turned away. "Good bye, Chloe," she said, as she walked out of the junkyard. Chloe watched her go, tears now falling freely down her cheeks.

"Goodbye, Rachel," she whispered, her breath heaving as she did so, then she saw the bat on the ground and picked it up. "You know what?" she continued, her voice rising to a scream. "You know what, world? Fuck you! Fuck you, world! FUCK YOU AND FUCK THIS FUCKING PLACE TO FUCKING FUCK!" Without really knowing what she was doing, she swung the bat wildly, connecting with something heavy, bringing it crashing down on the floor. She didn't care what it was, just that it was destroyed. She swung the bat again, connecting with something, and again, and again. The she began to run wildly through the junkyard, smashing anything and everything she could. She saw a mannequin, standing forlornly overlooking part of the junkyard.

 _SMASH!_

"You're so fucking fake! So fucking fake! You know she's fake, yet you can't take your eyes off her! Who else do I know that fits that fucking description!"

 _SMASH!_

She found a toolbox balancing on a pile of junk. She pushed it to the ground, and an old camera fell out onto the floor. She stopped, breathing heavily, then smashed the camera into a thousand tiny pieces.

 _SMASH!_

"I never got your fucking hard-on for cameras, Max," she muttered to herself, as she smashed the camera, again and again. "You took a million pictures of us, and not one of them showed that you would leave, just when I needed you the most." She smashed it again. "Fuck cameras. And FUCK YOU, MAX!"

 _SMASH!_

She continued to run around the junkyard, smashing things with the baseball bat, until she found herself in front of an old, beat-up car. It was difficult to get the colour of the car, underneath all the rust, but it looked to have been a blue/green colour originally. It had seen better days, in fact, it had obviously been in a catastrophic accident. The whole driver's side was caved in, and the roof, as if the side had been hit by a…

 _… truck. Dad?_

"Dad?" whispered Chloe, all the fight gone from her in an instant. She dropped the bat and her feet wandered over to the car in a kind of hypnotic trance. "Dad?" She stood in front of the car, gazing at it, her father's face foremost in her thoughts. Eventually, she reached out her hands to the car and placed them on the bonnet, tears welling in her eyes. The tension began to build in her, and soon she could take no more. She screamed in anguish and thumped the bonnet of the car with both hands. Again she screamed, and again she thumped the car. Again and again her fists crashed down on the bonnet of the car, accompanied by screams and crying. Eventually, she stopped and sank to the floor, exhausted but unable to stop crying. She kicked out at the car and her foot touched the broken front wheel. Immediately as it did so, she felt a jolt, like she was being shaken out of her body, and all went white.

…

"I just called to tell you that I miss you my old friend/Burning the midnight oil again/Last year we bought a house outside of boulder"

Chloe awoke with a start, opening her eyes to a blurred world. She blinked a few times and slowly everything came into focus. She was in the car with her father again, his favourite song on the radio.

"You know how Kathy always missed that rocky mountain sky/She said 'Let's move before my folks get any older/so they can see the grandkids grow up for a while/I was just thinking of…" The song stopped as William turned the radio off.

"Honey?" he said, turning in his seat to look at his daughter. Chloe was sat in the back seat, and tears were still making their way down her cheeks. "Why are you crying, sweetie?" As he talked, a raven flew by the car, causing Chloe to look over at it. When she looked back, William had turned into David. Chloe looked in shock and blinked, but it was William again.

"Because you're not real," she said. "You're not my dad."

"I'm not?" laughed William. "Oh, sweetheart, whatever gave you that idea?"

"Because you're… dead," said Chloe, crying again. "My dad died and I needed you and you weren't there. And now I'm seeing you, but you're still dead and not really here when I need you. So you aren't real."

"Wow, sweetie, that's some deep thought," said William, turning back to focus on the road. "I know you think I haven't been there for you this last year, but actually, that's not strictly true. You're right, I _am_ dead, well, my body is, but you know what? I'll never really die while you remember me, love me and think about me. So does it really matter if I'm real, or not? I'm here now, so why don't you talk to me, honey? Go on. I know you want to." There was a sharp sound and Chloe's vision flashed white for a second. When it returned, William was in the back seat, next to her. "I'm listening," he said.

"Um, Dad, there's no-one driving," she said, worried, but William smiled gently, consoling her.

"It doesn't matter, sweetie," he said. "This is your dream, it makes no difference if I'm driving or not. The car will go where it needs to go. So, for now, I'm here. Talk to me. I'm listening to you."

"Oh dad," said Chloe, the dam bursting. "I've fucked things up again."

"Really? I thought you were doing great," said her father.

"Are you actually watching me, or are you just up there jerking off?" said Chloe. "I'm not doing great at all. I'm fucking everything up, aren't I?"

"Kiddo, what are you talking about?" said her father, putting his arm around her. "You're doing great, you really are."

"Oh yeah? How'd you figure?"

"Well, look at today. You made a new friend, didn't you?" As he talked, the car passed by Rachel, who was walking alone along the side of the road. The sight of her sent a pang into Chloe's heart as she turned her head to look at her as the car drive on.

Chloe was silent for a while. Once again, the scenery passing by the car window made it seem like it was the scenery, not the car moving. "I thought I did," she said, almost whispering. "But I was wrong. I fucked it up."

"No, you didn't," said William. "You didn't mess anything up. Look back at it. Could you have done anything differently? More to the point, would anything you did or said made a difference? Did you 'cause' her change of heart?"

"How do you know about that?" said Chloe, before she realised what she'd said.

"Honey, I'm dead. Or in your mind. Either way, I know what you know," said William. "So, did you do anything?"

"I guess not," conceded Chloe.

"Exactly," said William. "You were a good friend today. You helped her, you went with her. There's nothing you could have done differently."

"I guess," said Chloe. "But we did fight, you know."

"Yeah, it was some fight," said William, chuckling. "She nearly took your head off." He pursed his lips, looking at his daughter. "A lover's tiff, maybe?"

"Not really," said Chloe. "We weren't… you know."

"Together?"

"Yeah," said Chloe, her head bowed. "I wanted… but she didn't…"

"Ah honey, I'm so sorry," said William. "The pain of unrequited love cuts like a knife, right to the bone."

"Yeah? And what do you care?" said Chloe.

"Sorry, sweetie," said William. "I guess I'm getting into your personal business." Once again, the car passed by Rachel's form. She was standing under an oak tree, looking up into the branches. As the car passed, she turned to look at Chloe and smiled a sad, wan smile. "You know, sometimes people need you, even if they don't know it themselves. Like your mother. She needs you, sweetie. I know you don't approve of David and you know, that's your right, that's your opinion. But you also have to see that your mother has opinions too, and she's as entitled to them as you are."

"David can go to hell!" spat Chloe. "He's certainly not moving in!"

"If he does move in, it's because he and your mother want it to happen, honey," said William. "For your mother's sake, please don't make things too difficult for her." The car passed by Rachel again, standing under the oak tree, but this time it stopped and Rachel walked slowly over to it, stopping by Chloe's window. "She's not the only one who needs you, honey," said William, nodding at Rachel, who'd put her hand on the window. "She won't admit it, but she needs you." Chloe put her hand on the window, on the other side to Rachel, then jumped in shock as, suddenly and without warning, Rachel's body caught on fire. She could feel the heat on the glass as Rachel was consumed by the flames.

"Rachel…" whispered Chloe, as a truck appeared from nowhere and slammed into the side of the car, the impact sending the car flying as Chloe screamed, her father holding her tight…

…

Chloe awoke with a start. She opened her eyes to find herself sat, rather painfully, in her father's wrecked car. Her leg was wedged and she took her time to extricate it from the wreck and then spent a good few minutes hopping around, trying to get the circulation back in her legs.

"Rachel," she whispered, leaning on the bonnet of the car. She made her decision and left the junkyard, heading back down the train tracks towards the park.


	16. Firestarter

Sure enough, Rachel was under the oak tree, exactly where William said she would be.

 _How is it even possible that Dad knew where she was?_

She was standing underneath the huge tree that Chloe had seen the woman in the white dress standing under earlier, looking up into its branches. Her shoulders were heaving and Chloe could hear her crying as she approached. She wasn't nearly as stealthy as she thought and Rachel turned as she neared.

"You came," she said, her face breaking into a smile despite her tears. "I'm glad."

"Are you sure about that?" said Chloe. "I kinda got a different vibe from you earlier."

"Yeah, I know," said Rachel, "It's complicated, but I _am_ glad you didn't listen to me."

"I couldn't let this day end like that," said Chloe. "I… look, what you said hurt me, but I realised that it wasn't you saying the words. It was something else. Something that had been bothering you since…" Chloe was suddenly engulfed in a lightbulb moment and everything became crystal clear. "Since all day, isn't it?" she said, clicking her fingers excitedly. "You were _always_ going to ditch this morning, weren't you? This was all planned out. I don't know why, or what the issue was, but this has been building all day, hasn't it? Amiright?"

After a moment, Rachel nodded, just once and began crying again. Chloe, somewhat hesitantly, opened her arms and Rachel gratefully accepted the invitation. The feel of her against Chloe's chest was… wonderful and Chloe just held her, letting her cry, as she'd done for Max so many times before. The wave of memory washing over her almost brought her to tears too, but she concentrated on Rachel and pushed the memory of Max to the back of her mind.

Rachel finally stopped crying and stepped back from Chloe. She wiped her eyes and looked faintly embarrassed at her loss of control. She looked at Chloe with gratitude in her eyes. "Thanks Chloe," she said.

"Hey, that's what friends do," said Chloe. "Right?"

"Right," said Rachel. "I think. I've not exactly had many… any close friends before."

"I had one," said Chloe. "But she… left me."

"What was her name?" said Rachel, but then realised what she'd said. "You… you don't have to tell me, you know. I know you nearly did earlier, but…"

"Max," said Chloe, not looking at Rachel. "Her name was Max."

"Thank you, Chloe."

"For what?"

"Trusting me. I know, believe me, I know how difficult putting your trust in someone is." Rachel paused. "I think I owe you something, Chloe," she said, quietly. Like earlier, her voice had lost the sassiness of her usual character, and taken on a totally different timbre, one of hesitation, worry, and fear.

"You don't owe me anything, Rache," said Chloe, but Rachel shook her head.

"No, I owe you an explanation," she said. "You're right. You are far more intelligent than people take you for. You were absolutely spot on about me. Today _was_ planned out. Not necessarily with you, but your company has certainly made it… a much better day than I feared it was going to be."

"You don't have to tell me, Rachel," said Chloe, again, but once more Rachel shook her head.

"Yes, I do. I need to get this off my chest, and you're my friend, right?" Rachel looked directly into Chloe's eyes. The intensity shining in her eyes was quite striking. "You _are_ my friend, aren't you?"

Chloe returned Rachel's intense gaze without hesitation. "Rachel, I don't need to answer that. I think you already know that what we have is special." Her words brought out a genuine smile from her friend, and Rachel nodded.

"Okay," she said. "So… you remember that guy we saw under this tree earlier?"

"Through the telescope? Yeah," Chloe said, remembering. "He met that woman in the white dress and they started… well, I don't think you saw that bit."

"No, but I heard you describe it."

"I remember seeing her as we walked up to the Overlook. She was waiting under this very… tree," said Chloe, another lightbulb going off in her head. "Was she…"

"He was my dad," said Rachel.

"Then she was…"

"… not my mother."

"Oh," said Chloe, the weight of what Rachel had revealed suddenly crashing down around her. "Not your mother. Then, in that case…"

"… the worst part is," continued Rachel, "I'm not really surprised. He's been quite distant recently, and I've been pretty sure he's been lying about something. I just didn't know what? I mean, I never even thought he'd cheat on my mom or anything, but then this morning I saw he got a text from an unknown number, asking to meet up. I thought I'd catch him, or see him, or something. I… I just wasn't prepared for what I… what we saw."

"I'm so sorry, Rache, I… I don't know what to say."

"Neither do I," said Rachel, silent tears slowly falling down her cheeks. She went to wipe them off, but Chloe stopped her, gently wiping them off herself.

"Chloe, I love my dad, I love him so much, but I never want to see his fucking face again," said Rachel, beginning to cry again.

"I know," said Chloe, thinking quickly. "When my dad died, I was so mad at him. For months, I'd scream and swear at him that I never wanted to see him again." She laughed, a hollow laugh. "The thing was, I was only mad at him half the time. The other half…"

"… you forgot that he wasn't there, that nothing had changed."

"Exactly!" said Chloe.

Rachel reached into her bag and pulled out the photograph that Chloe had seen earlier that day. She handed it to Chloe, who accepted it without a word. "It's from Mount Hood. My dad took me hiking there when I was ten. It started raining and I fell and broke my arm three miles from the car." She smiled at the memory. "I remember screaming like I was gonna die, I mean, have you ever broken your arm? No? Well, the pain is excruciating. All the more so when you're ten. It felt like the fucking world was ending. But my dad, he carried me down the mountain, back to the car. I still remember the smell of his coat, and how calm he was, the sound of his voice, calming me down, telling me everything was going to be alright, you know…" Rachel's voice tailed off as she remembered. Chloe felt an overwhelming urge to give her friend a hug again, but something stopped her. It wasn't the right time. "He was so strong, you know? It felt safe." She nodded. "I've always felt safe with him around. Until… well, recently things have been a bit different, but I couldn't put my finger on it."

"You trusted him," said Chloe.

"Completely. Utterly."

"I know how you felt," said Chloe. "I was the same with my dad. Totally trusted him. Totally safe. And then he left me." She gave the photo back to Rachel. "Here, take it," she said. Rachel accepted the photo and put it back in her pocket.

"Chloe," she said, hesitating until she had Chloe's full attention. "I owe you an apology."

"Rachel… don't worry about it," said Chloe, but Rachel carried on.

"I mean it, Chloe," she said. "Whatever's going on between us, it's intense, and it's new… awesome… and… look, you had the courage to tell me that you feel it, too. And I treated you like a bag of shit." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Chloe."

"Courage?" said Chloe. "I don't know if I'd call it courage. More like blind desperation. And maybe a slight buzz from that wine, even though it tasted like shit." She smiled. "Look, after the day you've had today, we've all the time in the world to figure out whatever 'this' is, yeah?"

"I just want you to know," said Rachel, closing the distance between them, "I'm lucky that you were with me today. Your company means more to me than you know. You're a badass, Chloe Price."

"What? No!"

"Of course you are. You got into the Firewalk concert last night, didn't you? I can't see you sneaking in through the side door, which means you got past that bouncer. And I'm guessing you talked your way past him. Am I right?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"That's some badass bullshit right there, Chloe," said Rachel. "And those skeevy guys who followed you upstairs? You dropped that one guy with a knee to the groin..."

"… only because you showed up at the last minute. Rachel, I'm not that great," said Chloe.

"Chloe Price, you're a lot better than you think you are," said Rachel, taking Chloe's hands in her own. "Plus you came along with me today, no questions asked."

"Well, I don't really need a good reason to ditch school, you know," said Chloe. "It's not like I haven't done it before. Still, today was different. It… turned out far better than I'd feared after the way it started."

"I guess tomorrow will bring the consequences. There'll be hell to pay."

"Mom might skip the grounding and go straight to the death penalty. Or worse."

"Worse?"

"She might sic David on me."

"David?"

"Mom's new boyfriend."

"Oh god, I bet you hate him," said Rachel, beginning to laugh. "I bet you want to murder him. Or maim him a little. Maybe just enough to un-pretty him so your mom will dump him?"

"Oh, don't give me ideas," Chloe said. "I find myself dreaming of it sometimes. Only this morning, I was carrying his socket wrench, and…"

"… it nearly slipped out of your hand and started beating him over the head, all by itself?"

"Exactly," said Chloe. "Mom started dating him a couple of months back, and he's just… he's ex-military, and he treats me like a fucking recruit! Ordering me around like I'm his own personal bagman. Go do this," Chloe said, putting on a fake, low masculine voice, "go do that. Fetch me my tools. Don't do drugs." She sighed. "All the fucking time. It's like he's trying way to hard to prove to mom that he loves me. But he doesn't. He just wants to get into mom's life. He doesn't give a shit about me."

"Does he live with you?"

"Fuck no!" spat Chloe. "At least, not yet. He's begun leaving some of his stuff around the place, like he's testing the water."

"Well, at least he's not marrying your mom…"

"… oh god, don't say that…"

"… otherwise he'd become your step…"

"… Shit! No way. Don't even say it!"

"Luke, I am your father!"

"Noooooooo!" yelled Chloe, laughing. "No way, man. He'll never be my father. The closest he'll ever get, I guess, is step… um, no, I'm not going to say it. Step-douche, there you go."

"Well, I'll be here for you," said Rachel. "Although I might get grounded tomorrow as well. My dad will definitely punish me with…"

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, Rachel," said Chloe, the tone of the conversation turning serious once more. "Fuck him."

"Fuck him indeed," said Rachel.

"You know, I'd be quite happy to make like a tree and get out of here," said Chloe, wistfully.

"Chloe Price, have you been watching Back to the Future again?" said Rachel, smiling.

"Yeah, I know, an easy one," said Chloe. "But it's true. Leave Arcadia Bay and never look back."

"So, what's stopping us?" At this, Chloe put her hands on Rachel's shoulder and looked her directly in the eyes.

 _Us?_

"Us? Are you serious?" she said, looking into Rachel's eyes.

 _You'd better not be fucking with me, Amber._

"There's nothing keeping me here, Chloe. Nothing at all."

"So if I came to you tomorrow and told you to pack your bags…"

"I'd do it, Chloe. I'm serious." Rachel nodded. "Let's do it. Let's leave this place forever."

"Okay," said Chloe, without a moment's hesitation. "Okay."

Rachel pulled the photo out of her pocket and looked at it in the dying light. "Can I borrow your lighter for a mo, Chlo?" she said, and Chloe gave it to her. It took a couple of attempts to bring forth the flame, but she set fire to the corner of the photo and let it fall into the litter bin by the tree. The rest of the litter caught and soon the bin was well alight. Rachel took a step back and looked at Chloe, who offered her a hand.

"Come on," she said. "Let's go."

But Rachel wasn't finished. With a huge scream of rage and frustration she kicked the bin over. The contents spilled out, still alight and set the ground alight near the oak tree. As she continued screaming, a gust of wind blew up from behind her, spreading the fire to the whole tree. Rachel screamed again, a crying scream that released all her pent-up fear, humiliation and rage. One more huge scream brought a second gust of wind that spread the fire even further. Chloe grabbed her hand.

"Come on!" she screamed, over the sound of the burning trees. They looked aghast at the fire, which was quickly spreading to the other trees in the area and showed no signs of breaking. She led Rachel away. "We need to get out of here!" she screamed, and the two girls ran quickly from the scene, disappearing into the night.


	17. Interlude

"Chloe! Breakfast!" The call from downstairs came around two seconds after Chloe had opened her eyes. She groaned; her eyes felt heavy and very reluctant to stay open.

"Chloe!" The call came again. "I want you downstairs in five minutes. No later!" There was something about her mother's voice that Chloe, especially in her sleep-addled state, couldn't quite figure out. " _Chloe!_ "

"Okay mom, I'm coming!" called Chloe, still groggy. She sat up too quickly, the blood rushing from her head and blinked several times. Her head was throbbing and she carefully made her way over to the dresser and pulled on a t-shirt and jeans without really looking. Then she opened the door and, taking advantage of the bannister, made her way downstairs to where her mother was waiting for her. There was no bacon and eggs this morning; simply two slices of buttered toast and a strong black coffee.

"Good morning, young lady," said Joyce, peering at her daughter's obvious discomfort. "Good to see you finally up and in the land of the living, if only just."

"Yeah, mom," said Chloe, massaging her temples and screwing up her face as the hammer continued to pound in her head. "Do we have any painkillers? That Japanese Taiko drum tutor is warming up for his lessons inside my skull at the moment." This brought a wry grin from her mother, who disappeared for a moment, then re-appeared with some pills.

"Here you go," she said, handing them to Chloe, who gratefully swallowed them. She looked her daughter up and down. "You'll need to change," she said, "that won't do at all."

"For what?" said Chloe, confused. "What's wrong with me? And stop shouting at me," she complained, holding her head. "It's the weekend. This has always been good enough for me before."

"Not today, though," said Joyce, her face hardening as Chloe sipped her coffee, the hot liquid burning a pleasant path to her stomach. "This morning you, and by 'you' I mean 'we', have a meeting."

 _Oh shit._

"With who?" said Chloe, fearing she already knew the answer.

"With whom," corrected her mother, "and it's with Principal Wells. He's asked that we meet him in his office at ten-thirty this morning. I need to get to the diner and sort out the early shift. I'll meet you there, so go back upstairs, make yourself look as smart as you possibly can, okay?"

"What's the meeting about?"

"Don't pretend you don't know, Chloe," said her mother, collecting her things. "If I wasn't running late, I'd have it out with you now. But it'll have to wait. I wonder why I'm running late," she mused. "Could it possibly be that my under-age daughter is hungover again? I'll meet you outside his office at ten twenty-five, okay?"

"Um, okay mom. But, how do I get there?"

"Really, Chloe? Catch the bus," said Joyce. "I'm not messing around here, and neither is Principal Wells, by the sound of it." She stood and walked towards the door. "Chloe, don't be late, okay?"

"Okay mom," said Chloe, sighing. "I'll see you later." Her mother closed the door behind her and left Chloe to finish her breakfast. She quickly downed the coffee and munched through her toast before heading upstairs to wait for the effects of the painkillers to kick in. While she waited, she unlocked her phone.

 _CHLOE: [Rache, you there?]_

…

"Morning Mom," called Rachel as she descended the stairs. She could hear her mother pottering around the kitchen as she made breakfast, interspersed with snippets of low conversation with her father as he sat and read the morning paper. She could the feel the faint remnants of a headache, but it was nothing that serious; replaced by the beginnings of the butterflies that she knew would only grow as the day grew older, and closer to the time of the play that evening.

"Morning, dear," said Rose as her daughter came into view. "Take a seat, I'll be right with you."

"I don't have much time this morning, sorry," said Rachel, "I'll just have a quick coffee and I'll be out of here. I need to…"

"Sorry, honey," said her mother, "but you're not going out just yet. Your father wants to talk to you, so you may as well sit down." Rachel sat, her heart sinking.

"What's going on?" she asked, and her father put down his paper and looked over the table at her.

"What is going on," he said, "is that Principal Wells has requested a meeting this morning at ten-thirty. You, me and your mother. And apparently another girl and her mother." He took a sip of his coffee. "Would you know anything about this?" he asked, and Rachel swallowed. "Anything at all?"

"Daddy…"

"I don't want to hear that your behaviour has been… less than exemplary, Rachel," he said, keeping his voice quite calm and deliberate. "You know my views on your behaviour, right?" He looked across at his daughter with the withering glare that she'd come to know when he was annoyed. His voice was still very quiet, but the sort of dangerous quiet that people can't help but stop and listen to. "What have I always said to you?"

"That everything I do is representative of you, and, by extension, the office of the District Attorney," she said, as if reciting from a textbook.

"Perfect. And you know what that means, right?" he asked, his voice still dangerously quiet.

"Yes Daddy," she said. "Every time I make a mistake, it reflects badly on you and your public image."

"Exactly," he said. "So I don't want to hear about you doing _anything_ criminal. I know what teenagers are like, so you know what would happen should I find out you've been stealing, hurting anyone, setting fires, anything like that. Right? Right? It would be the end of my career if you were convicted of anything."

"I know that, Daddy," said Rachel. "I do try to…"

"So that's clear. However, misbehaviour, even if it's not criminal, is just as serious. You see, when you…"

"James…"

"I'm handling this, Rose," he continued. "As I was saying, when you misbehave, Rachel, as my daughter, as the daughter of the District Attorney, it reflects badly on me. See, when it seems like I cannot control the behaviour of my own daughter, then my opponents will begin to question my authority over the criminals of this town. And I can't have that, Rachel, I can't have that at all. Do you understand?"

"Honey…"

"I told you, Rose, I'm handling this," said James. "Now, do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Of course, Daddy," said Rachel, her eyes welling up.

"I'm glad we understand each other," said James. "Now, would you like to tell me why the Ray Wells has seen fit to pull me out of my work, to meet with him and another family in his office this morning? Have you been bullying this little girl? Is that it? You know my views on bullying, it's one of the…"

"No, Daddy, of course not," said Rachel, trying to say as little as possible while she fought to stay calm. "I'm not a bully, how could you even suggest that?"

"Because I _thought_ I knew you," said her father. "I _thought_ you were a good girl. I've brought you up to know right from wrong, and yet…" His voice trailed off. "You've embarrassed me. I'm going to have to sit in front of Ray this morning and try and defend your behaviour." He sighed. "I could really have done without this today, I've got so much to do, I can really do without attending school on a Saturday. So come on, what have you done? Defacing school property? Bullying? You'd better not have stolen anything from that girl!"

"Daddy, I…"

"On second thoughts, don't tell me," he said. "I don't want to know. I don't want Ray thinking I've known about and condoned whatever it is you've done, so just… it's better if I don't know. Go to your room. I'll call you when it's time to leave." Rachel took this as her cue to stand up. As she left, she could hear her father muttering under his breath, something about 'that daughter of mine, turning out to be an embarrassment.' She fled up the stairs, tears in her eyes and flung herself on her bed, slamming the door behind her. As she did so, her phone buzzed.

 _CHLOE: [Rache, you there?]_

 _RACHEL: [Yeah]_

 _CHLOE: [I think we've been found out]_

 _RACHEL: [Yeah, me too]_

 _CHLOE: [Fuck. I hate school during the week, so having to go in on a Saturday…]_

 _RACHEL: [I know, sucks. Dad really chewed me out this morning]_

 _CHLOE: [Does he know that u know about what your mother doesn't know? Unless she knows that he knows about what u know. In which case…]_

 _RACHEL: [MY BRAIN HURTS]_

 _CHLOE: ['cos I was going to ask if u knew that she knew that he knew what it was that you knew he knew?]_

 _RACHEL: [Chloe, please stop, you're hurting my brain]_

 _CHLOE: […]_

 _RACHEL: [I've played JRPGs, Chloe, I know what you're saying]_

 _CHLOE: [Have you played tabletop? I got to play with Steph and Mikey yesterday morning before I saw you]_

 _RACHEL: [Once, yeah. It was fun]_

 _CHLOE: [I sliced Mikey's feet off]_

 _RACHEL: [Wait, what?]_

 _CHLOE: [I rolled a 1. Instead of slicing the guy's arm off, I missed and removed Mikey's feet. It was… unexpected]_

 _RACHEL: [Harsh but fair]_

 _CHLOE: [I died]_

 _RACHEL: [Now that makes me sad]_

 _CHLOE: [I did die heroically but tragically, though. Saving the land and all that. Barb sacrificed herself for the greater good]_

 _RACHEL: [Um… Barb?]_

 _CHLOE: [The elf barbarian]_

 _RACHEL: [But… Barb?]_

 _CHLOE: […]_

 _RACHEL: [We need to work on your naming scheme. Barb is… a shit name. Barb is the sort of name when you're five, and you can't think of a name. Like, when you're five and stupid and have a party consisting of Barb the Barbarian, Wiz the Wizard, Crus the Crusader because you can't spell Chris or are too stupid to make the connection, Heal the Healer and Cle the Cleric. You need to take naming your characters very seriously]_

 _CHLOE: [Whoa! Nerd alert! Anyway, I did slice off Mikey's feet]_

 _RACHEL: [I suppose. You get points for that]_

 _CHLOE: [So, what do we do about Wells? I've been called in a few times. He's not… the most fairest of people]_

 _RACHEL: [Yeah I know he's corrupt as fuck. Look, don't worry about it. I've got a plan]_

 _CHLOE: [Oh god]_

 _RACHEL: [Why does everyone say that when I say I've got a plan? Does nobody have faith in me?]_

 _CHLOE: [I don't think so]_

 _RACHEL: [But I'm reliable. I really ma]_

 _CHLOE: [ma?]_

 _RACHEL: [Sorry, fat fingers. Am*]_

 _CHLOE: [Is it a cunning plan?]_

 _RACHEL: [What?]_

 _CHLOE: [Could you put a tail on it and call it a fox?]_

 _RACHEL: [I really have no idea what the fuck you're on about. You're not taking this seriously]_

 _CHLOE: [Is it as cunning as a fox that used to be Professor of Cunning at Oxford University but has now moved on to the UN High Commission for International Cunning Planning]_

 _RACHEL: [My brain is hurting again. Shut up. SHUT UP]_

 _CHLOE: [Ok. I've run out of cunning quotes now. Tell me about the plan so cunning that the devil himself would lay down his pitchfork and fall over at the sheer cunningness of it]_

 _RACHEL: [Anyway, let me do the talking, ok?]_

 _CHLOE: [You sure?]_

 _RACHEL: [Trust me. You'll only hurt Wells]_

 _CHLOE: [Failing to see a problem there]_

 _RACHEL: [Chloe. Serious now, please]_

 _RACHEL: [And Chloe? Thanks for be there with me last night]_

 _CHLOE: [My pleasure, Rache. Although…]_

 _RACHEL: [Don't talk about that on text. In person only]_

 _CHLOE: [Ok. Look, I've got to get the bus. I'll see you there]_

 _RACHEL: [Ok. And Chloe?]_

 _CHLOE: [?]_

 _RACHEL: [Stay strong]_


	18. Consequences Part 1

Chloe's heart was pounding as her mother knocked twice and opened the door to the principal's office on hearing a faint 'Come in' from the other side.

The last time she'd been in this situation wasn't as far back in history as she'd have liked. In fact, it was only last month that she'd found herself in the office, facing Ray Wells for the crime of insolence. Well, she didn't categorise it as insolence. She'd tried to explain to Wells that she'd merely disagreed with Mrs Hoida's plan to study the Tempest for the sixth week in a row, trying to convince her to change to another classic literary masterpiece instead. Maybe Macbeth (or the Scottish play, as she knew people liked to call it), or maybe (shock horror) something that wasn't British. Perhaps Washington Irving (she'd seen Sleepy Hollow the film and was interested in the source material). She'd thought they'd had a decent discussion about it, but found out later that the English teacher had reported her. Wells hadn't been pleased and she'd had to do her English lessons after school for a week.

Taking a deep breath, she followed Joyce into the principal's office, through the outer room where his secretary was housed, noting the basic brown décor (with that horrific bronze bird on the desk that she'd really wanted to throw out of the window since the very first time she'd seen it) giving the office a distinctive 'old' flavour. And not a particularly nice flavour at that.

No, Chloe's visits to the principal's office had never been right up there for sheer entertainment value.

Except today was different. Different in that it wasn't only the principal there.

Her mother was there.

Rachel was there, too.

And Rachel's parents.

Waiting for her.

At least David wasn't anywhere to be found.

 _Every cloud and all that._

"Ms Price," said the principal, looking up from his reports with raised eyebrows, "how nice of you to join us."

"I'm so sorry we're late," said Joyce, taking a seat and indicating Chloe to do likewise. "I tried to get out here on time but I… just, I'm sorry, Principal Wells." Chloe looked around the room, receiving a small smile from Rachel, but her parents both looked at her as if she'd just been out kicking puppies around the courtyard.

"As we're all here," said Wells, in his usual, superiority-laced deep voice, "we can proceed."

 _I wonder how many he's had already this morning._

It was an open secret around campus that Principal Ray Wells answered two masters: Blackwell Academy, and the bottle. It was also rumoured, although never with any concrete proof, that he was in the pocket of Sean Prescott. It was, again, no secret that the Prescott patriarch had donated a substantial sum of money to the Academy for the betterment of the arts, and had a dormitory named after him in the process. That wasn't the only benefit – his son, Nathan was at Blackwell and was something of a soft touch. It was well known that Nathan was having a far easier time at Blackwell than if Wells wasn't looking out for him.

"Thank you all for coming," said Wells. "It's good to see you again, James," he continued looking at Rachel's father. "I'm sorry that it's under these circumstances."

"Me too," said James, nodding at Rachel. "I think none of us really want to be here. However, here we are."

"So. One of you," said Wells, looking directly at Rachel, "is new to the disciplinary process here at Blackwell Academy." He shifted his gaze over to Chloe. "And the other is all to familiar with it, unfortunately." He clasped his hands together and looked at the wall behind both students. "Our code of conduct here at Blackwell Academy of Excellence is built upon a foundation of mutual respect. It is meant to foster an environment conducive to education, learning and enrichment. When that respect is violated, actions are taken. As with life in general, all actions contrary to the status quo are met with consequences. And when that respect is repeatedly disregarded, further responses are required."

 _Blah blah fucking blah. Ok, reality check. Yesterday… happened. It was… awesome. You ditched school with Rachel. Rachel really did start that fire. And we… agreed to run away together. It was… totally surreal. Surreal, but nice. Probably worth twenty points in anyone's book. Anyway…_

"Are you paying attention to me, Chloe?" said Wells, breaking into her thoughts.

"Um, yeah, I mean…" said Chloe, faltering under a withering stare from her mother. "Yes, I am. Sir," she added after a moment's hesitation.

"Good, then you'll recall that last time we met, that an agreement was brokered between us. Do you remember the pertinent details of said agreement?" Wells stopped talking and just looked at Chloe. She felt quite uncomfortable with him just gazing at her. That discomfort took a toll on her powers of speech, too.

"Um, it was, I mean…" she said, faltering, "not get in trouble again?" At this revelation, Wells just looked at her and shook his head.

"Trouble is merely the byproduct, Ms Price," he said, sighing. "The real issue is, I'm afraid to say, your attitude, which hasn't improved one iota."

"Now wait just a minute," said Joyce, but Wells continued speaking.

"As you don't seem willing to remember, Ms Price, let me jog your memory. We agreed, and by we I mean you and me, we agreed that you would re-dedicate yourself to becoming an exemplary Blackwell student in the future."

"We did?" said Chloe.

"We did," repeated Wells. "In the event that you were unable or unwilling to do so, we also agreed that it would become a necessary task to re-evaluate your future status at this academy. I was under the impression that we were agreed on this, and that the terms of the agreement were made perfectly clear. Am I right in this?"

"Well, the way you put it know, it seems far clearer than…"

"The way I put it now, Ms Price, is exactly the same as the way I put it last time we were sat here, discussing your attitude. It was quite clear then, and it's quite clear now that you've totally ignored it. You see, despite the agreement, you have been implicated in possible drug-related activities yesterday." Chloe's head snapped around to look at her mother, who'd drawn in a sharp breath.

"Now wait just a moment," said Joyce. "Tell me exactly what that means. Implicated in possible… what?"

"Yes, what _does_ that mean?" asked Chloe. "Because from where I'm sitting, it doesn't sound like I did anything wrong."

"What it means," said Wells, "is that, over time, Chloe has developed a reputation as a user of illicit and illegal drugs, namely marijuana. On that note, I would strongly recommend you take a careful look through her room at home."

"Principal Wells," said Joyce, and her voice betrayed her annoyance. "I apologise for seeming a trifle brusque, but I don't tell you how to run your school."

"Academy," said Wells.

"Academy," repeated Joyce. "I don't tell you how to run it. Please refrain from telling me how to bring up my daughter." Wells looked like he'd been slapped in the face, and Chloe decided to press home the advantage.

"So, what you're saying is that you are punishing me based on the fact that you _think_ I _might_ have done something?" said Chloe. Beside her, Rachel couldn't help a small smirk appearing on her face. "See, that doesn't sound very fair at all. In fact, that sounds positively Orwellian." She later swore she heard a snicker from beside her.

"Chloe," warned Joyce, but Chloe was now in full flow and couldn't stop even if she'd wanted to.

"So, let's say, hypothetically, you drink a lot of alcohol," said Chloe, earning a quick indrawn breath from Rachel sat beside her. "Most of the people in school know this, so it would be fair to say, _hypothetically_ , of course, that you have a reputation for being a slave to the bottle. Could we, then, report you to the authorities based on the charge that you _might_ turn up for work tomorrow morning reeking of alcohol. Would that be fair, _sir?_ To punish you for something you might do, without a shred of proof or evidence. Would that be right, _sir?_ I always thought that the justice system was based on 'innocent until proven guilty'. This seems far more biased towards the world of George Orwell in Nineteen-Eighty-Four, and you are a member of the Thought Police, arresting me based on something I might do. I think actually, Phillip K Dick wrote about that as well, didn't he? Minority Report. Book was far better than that terrible film," she stage-whispered to Rachel. "That was a story based on executing someone based on a crime that they _might_ commit in the future. So, please, Mr Wells…"

"… Principal Wells, to you, Chloe…"

"… Ms Price to _you_ , Mr Wells, and I'll call you principal when you begin acting like one…"

"… _Chloe!_ " said her mother, shocked, but Chloe hadn't finished.

"… so I say again, Mr Wells. Please do show me the evidence you have of any wrongdoing," said Chloe, looking directly at the Principal. He shuffled a couple of papers, then looked back up at her.

"To my next point," he said, but Chloe wouldn't let him continue.

"Ha!" she crowed. "You don't _have_ any evidence, do you?"

"Principal Wells?" enquired Joyce. "Is my daughter correct?"

"If I may continue," said Wells, ignoring the question, "you were also caught attempting to sabotage the academic goals of one of our top students. Now, as I alluded to earlier, our strict code of conduct at Blackwell means that we strive to achieve excellence, something which sabotage is…"

"What the…" scoffed Chloe. "Me? Sabotaging another student?" She began to laugh. "I've got quite enough on my hands sabotaging myself to even consider looking at another… wait a minute, which student?"

"I'm not at liberty to say that…"

"Bollocks. Yeah, I'm sorry for my language, mom," said Chloe. "I've the right to know who accuses me of this. Which student?" She was insistent, and Wells pursed his lips. He also knew that Chloe was right.

"Miss Victoria Chase," he said, after a moment's silence. Chloe raised her eyebrows.

"Vicky? What academic goals? She doesn't even do her own homework, she has her minions do it for her. Funny, I thought Blackwell had a zero-tolerance policy on plagiarism. I suppose that only counts when you're not rich or influential. Or both."

"Chloe? What happened?" said Joyce. "Surely you didn't…"

"Of course I didn't, Mom," said Chloe, smiling. "It was simple. She couldn't be bothered to do her own chemistry homework, so she tried to cheat off me. She was quite brazen about it, just asking me for the answers after telling me she couldn't be bothered to do it herself. So I tried to stop her cheating. I gave her the wrong answers on purpose. In fact, mom, she can't usually be bothered to do _any_ of her own homework. She's quite happy to buy essays off the internet, and she…"

"… we're not talking about Ms Chase, Chloe," said Wells, but Joyce had something to say.

"Now wait a moment, Principal Wells," said Joyce. "I think we are talking about Miss Chase. Why is Chloe being accused and punished for someone else's plagiarism? She may not have gone about it the right way, but Chloe did the right thing in stopping that girl from cheating."

"The infraction involved both students. Victoria will be reprimanded as well," said Wells, but Joyce wasn't having any of it.

"Yeah, I bet she will," she said.

"For her part, Miss Chase may well have been suspended," said Wells.

"Chloe, you tried to get someone suspended?" said Joyce, but Chloe shook her head.

"No mom," she said sighing. "I just didn't want her cheating on her homework for like the millionth time. It's not fair on those of us who actually spend the time to study. I bet she wasn't suspended, though."

"She might have been," clarified Wells. "As it was, Mr Prescott, Nathan Prescott, spoke up on her behalf."

"Oh, I see, Prescott got involved, so she got off scott-free. What a surprise," said Chloe, and, next to her, her mother nodded.

"I'm satisfied that my daughter did nothing wrong there," said Joyce. "So let me get this straight. You accuse her of drug-related activities, as you put it, but offer no evidence. You then accuse her of sabotaging another student, when it was the other student at fault, a student who avoids any sort of punishment because she has money. I think that about sums it up, yes?" Joyce looked directly at Wells, as if daring him to continue. "Do you have anything else you wish to discuss?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," said Wells. "We have several witnesses that place you in the centre of a bullying incident yesterday morning, involving the same Nathan Prescott."

"At the centre of a…" Chloe started laughing.

"Ms Price, please show some respect," said Wells.

" _Chloe!_ "

"I'm sorry mom, but that is complete horsesh… I mean, that's just not true." Chloe continued chuckling. "Once again Mr Wells has completely ignored the facts and decided to run with whatever the rich kids tell him. So let me tell you what _really_ happened." Chloe looked around the room before continuing. "I was climbing the stairs to get to science class yesterday morning when Nathan actually physically assaulted me," she said. "He knocked me to the floor, didn't apologise or anything. He was the one being bullied, only it wasn't me doing the bullying. That was Drew North. He was chasing Nathan at the time. If by 'involved' you mean I didn't stick up for him when Drew was threatening him. I didn't realise that was a crime."

"Your lack of awareness doesn't absolve you of anything, Ms Price."

"Say what you want about my daughter, but she is _no_ bully, Principal Wells," said Joyce, and Chloe felt a warm flush as the support from her mother, along with a small flush of guilt at the way she'd been treating her.

"Maybe you should be talking to Drew instead of me. You know, the guy who actually did what you're accusing me of. And I bet it's that Samantha that grassed on me. She wanted me to get in between Drew and Nathan. I'd already been knocked to the floor once, there was no way I was going to get hit again. So, you're actually proposing to punish me for being hit?"

"Principal Wells? Is this true?" said Joyce. "Was Drew North the perpetrator in this incident? Was my daughter only a spectator?"

"Mr North's situation requires… sensitivity," said Wells. "It will be handled separately."

"Oh? And Chloe's situation is less sensitive?" said Joyce.

"I do not discuss other students' situations. We are here to discuss the behaviour of your daughter only."

"That's convenient," said Joyce. "Especially when you're so obviously intending to ignore the facts."

"Mom, you know this is all bullshit, right?" said Chloe, turning to her mother. "Drew is going for a full football scholarship. It'll be very prestigious for Blackwell if he gets it. He may not have a load of money, but that would be very influential."

"I'm beginning to suspect that myself," said Joyce, to her daughter, then she turned to Wells. "Let's discuss Chloe's behaviour, then. So far, you've accused her of, let me see," she began ticking off her fingers, "she may have been involved in something that nobody saw and you have no evidence of, she stopped a student cheating on her homework, and she was hit by a bully. Is that the long and short of it, Principal Wells?"

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Mrs Price," said Wells. "But your daughter's misbehaviour is real and serious."

"You know what?" said Joyce. "Chloe isn't an angel. I know that. She knows that. And you know that. However, until you can bring me absolute concrete proof of misbehaviour, instead of insinuating drug use, accusing her of bullying when you freely admit another student was the bully, and accusing her of sabotaging, what was it you said, oh yes, the academic goals of one of your top students, a student who, by Chloe's admission was trying to cheat on her homework, then I will take action and believe you. Until that point, Principal Wells, I'm afraid you have nothing. Come on, Chloe," she finished, standing up.

 _Go mom!_

Even Rachel looked impressed, but Wells hadn't finished.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he said, "but I'm afraid we haven't finished just yet, Ms Price. You see, we can discuss the behavioural failings of Chloe Price all morning and into the afternoon, but to be honest," he continued, and Joyce sat back down, "even with your prodigious disciplinary record, Ms Price, we needn't discuss any of it."

"We needn't?" said Chloe, her blood running cold.

 _Shit._

"No, we needn't, Ms Price," said Wells. "Because you severed your relationship with Blackwell the minute you left school grounds without permission."


	19. Consequences Part 2

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he said, "but I'm afraid we haven't finished just yet, Ms Price. You see, we can discuss the behavioural failings of Chloe Price all morning and into the afternoon, but to be honest," he continued, and Joyce sat back down, "even with your prodigious disciplinary record, Ms Price, we needn't discuss any of it."

"We needn't?" said Chloe, her blood running cold.

 _Shit._

"No, we needn't, Ms Price," said Wells. "Because you severed your relationship with Blackwell the minute you left school grounds without permission."

"What does that mean?" said Chloe.

"It means," said Wells, "That you've forced my hand. This is a consequence of your actions, Chloe. Yesterday, you left school grounds without permission before first period, and you didn't return all day."

"Chloe?" said her mother, but Chloe's couldn't hear her. Her ears were pounding with her heartbeat and her blood had run icy cold in her veins.

 _Shit, this is it, isn't it?_

The prospect of getting expelled wasn't one that had worried Chloe. After all, she knew she wasn't making an effort in school. She didn't have any friends to socialise with, most classes didn't hold her interest and her behaviour was down to her attitude rather than anything else. And yet, now the moment had actually arrived, she realised she didn't actually want to be expelled. She'd just made a new friend (maybe more than a friend), she'd also had fun with Steph and Mikey the previous day and, for the first time in a year, life actually seemed like it might be worth giving it a serious shot. All that was about to come crashing down, and Chloe realised that she was afraid.

Genuinely afraid.

"And so, given your no-show at all your classes yesterday, I feel that I am left with no choice but to exp…"

"I made her do it." Rachel's voice cut into Wells' little speech and he stopped, unsure of what he'd just heard.

"What?" said Rachel's mother, snapping her head around to look at her.

"What?" said Joyce, similarly looking at the blonde girl.

"What?" said Chloe.

"Rachel?" said her father, his face draining of colour.

Principal Wells looked shocked. "Ms Amber?" he said.

"Yesterday was all me," said Rachel, talking very fast. "I… I was having a bad day. I needed to blow off some steam and I took it too far. Chloe actually tried to talk me out of it," she continued, looking straight at Wells and not noticing the incredulous faces on everyone else around her. "She said 'I've been down that road', she said. 'You're better than this,' she said. But I wouldn't listen to her. And Chloe was afraid I'd get in trouble, or get hurt, so she came with me. But only to keep me safe."

"Rachel," said Chloe.

"Chloe, I'm sorry you caught up in it," said Rachel, now turning to look at her friend. "I'm sorry that I dragged you down to my level. Can… can you forgive me." She paused and blinked once. "Please?"

"For what? You didn't do anything," said Chloe.

"That's exactly the point. Your willingness to stand with me, even now, is truly inspiring."

 _Such bullshit. She really is an amazing actress!_

"Chloe, is this true?" said Joyce. She was the first to recover, Rachel's mother was still shaking her head in disbelief.

"It's true, Mrs Price," said Rachel, turning from Wells to talk directly to Chloe's mother. "Your daughter was an amazing friend yesterday, honestly the best I've ever had. She really stood by me, even though she knew she could, and probably would, get in trouble. I'm so incredibly grateful. I was stupid, I know. I'm just lucky I had Chloe to keep me safe and I implore upon you not to be too hard on her, nay, she should be applauded for her actions, not punished."

"Ms Price?" said Wells, looking at her.

 _He doesn't believe Rachel. But is this my ticket out?_

 _Really, just agree with her, go on. You'll get away with it then._

 _But it's wrong._

 _So fine, take the blame. I'm not sure I can cope with you moping the fuck all day sat at home. And think about what David will say to you. And Joyce, they'll just…_

 _Okay, okay! Just Shut the fuck up, will you?_

"Fine, yes. It was her idea, but it's not like she kidnapped me or anything. We were in it together," snapped Chloe.

"Ms Amber," said Wells, turning his attention to the blonde girl, "based on what you've just told me, I have ground to punish you. Are you sure that what you've told me is the truth?"

"Yes, it is, sir," said Rachel, and Wells shook his head.

"Are you sure, Ms Amber?" he said. "Are you sure it wasn't Chloe?"

"My word," breathed Rachel. "You really _do_ have it in for Chloe, don't you?" She shook her head. "No, no matter what you _want_ to believe, I'm afraid the responsibility of yesterday lies solely with me. As I said, Chloe should be thanked for helping me to stay safe, not punished."

"This can't be the full story, Rachel?" said her father. "Ray?"

"Just to be clear, Ms Amber," said Wells, "you're absolutely sure that Chloe Price didn't coerce you, or bu…"

"Coerce her?" said Joyce. "Were you actually going to suggest that Chloe bullied her into this?"

"I'm just trying to get to the bottom of why someone like Rachel…"

"Oh, I think we're clear, Principal Wells. Someone like Rachel. But not my daughter," said Joyce, cutting Wells off. He looked at her with barely disguised irritation.

"Excuse me?" he said.

"Do you have a list of students like that?" said Joyce.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," said Wells.

"It's quite simple," said Joyce. "A list of students that you always think the worst of, like my daughter. You've already tried to drum up groundless accusations _three times_ this morning. And another list of students that are untouchable. I'm guessing that Nathan Prescott and Victoria Chase are top of that list, right? And maybe even Rachel, here. No offence, dear," she said to Rachel, who shook her head.

"None taken, Mrs Price," she said. "I'm truly sorry I've brought Chloe in here today, Mrs Price. She was a true friend to me yesterday. You should be proud of her."

"I'm glad that Chloe stood up for you," said Joyce, "but it was still wrong. You must know that." She turned back to Wells. "You have no right to treat her this way. It's all because she's on financial aid, isn't it?"

 _Go mom!_

"We're known as high risks, mom," said Chloe. "I was talking to… someone the other day, and he mentioned that we're only tolerated here because they have to. We're classed as 'high-risks'."

"High risks? What sort of label is that to put on a child?" Joyce siled suddenly as realisation hit her. "Oh, I get it," she said. "This isn't about Chloe at all, is it? This is about Blackwell's money troubles. Will you be dragging every other scholarship student in your office as well, today? And will you be making unfounded rumours about drug use to them too? Or is that reserved for my daughter alone?"

"Daaaam, mom," said Chloe. "don't hold back, will you?"

"Let's all just calm down," said Wells.

"After everything we've… she's been through in the last two years… you should be ashamed of yourself."

"Ms Price…"

"Mrs Price."

"Mrs Price, I appreciate what you're saying, but I assure you it is only your daughter's past behaviour that has led us here today."

"I understand that," said Joyce. "But, given what we've just heard today about Rachel's influence, I hope you will allow her one more chance."

"I'm glad we've finally got to the bottom of this matter," said Wells, "although the revelation brings me no pleasure. Ms Amber, I am seriously disappointed in you, I expected far better from you. Frankly, I'm shocked."

"I understand," said Rachel, looking downcast. "I'm very sorry, sir. I… I can't excuse my actions. I'm… just glad I wasn't on my own."

"Yes, well, be that as it may, Ms Amber," said Wells, "actions will always have consequences. Actions _must_ always have consequences, be they positive or negative. It's important you learn that right now. The fact that it's your first infraction in no way reduces its severity." He paused and looked around the room. Both Joyce and Chloe were looking at the principal, but Rachel's parents were concentrating on their daughter. James's hand tightened on her shoulder. For her part, Rachel looked quite concerned. "Still," he continued, "we will not be suspending you at this time." At this announcement, a collective sigh of relief was heard around the room. "But you have squandered our trust," he said. "Therefore, you will no longer be my administrative assistant first period. And you will no longer be involved in Blackwell's production of the Tempest."

Rachel looked horrified at this, and tears began welling up in her eyes. Both her parents showed their shock as well, and Chloe dropped her head.

 _Shit, that's… harsh._

 _That's… way too harsh. That fucking play would be nothing without her. Shit, half the audience will be there to see her in her costume. Well, the male part._

 _And you._

 _What?_

 _'Fess up, Chloe. You're going there to see Rachel, aren't you? In particular, to see her in that hot costume of hers._

 _What do you mean?_

 _C'mon Chloe, don't bullshit me. You know exactly what you're doing._

 _Ok, ok! So I'm going there to watch Rachel. Or, I was._

 _See? Don't you feel better? Confession's always good for the soul._

"No," said Rachel, her voice breaking.

"What? Are you insane?" said Chloe. "No way dude, that's so wrong on so many levels."

"I would remind you, Ms Price," said Wells, "that your discipline is still pending. I would advise you not to make things worse."

"Ray, she loves that show," said Rachel's father. "It would hurt far more than her if she were to be excluded from it. Her fellow actors, the audience. Since this is her first infraction, don't you think it…"

"Mr Amber, I don't tell you how to run the District Attorney's Office, do I? Please don't tell me how to run my school. There's a reason we have understudies, for all circumstances, accidental and deliberate. I'm sure your understudy…"

"Victoria Chase," said Rachel.

"Ah yes, Victoria Chase. How… fitting that she would benefit from this."

"Yes, how fitting," said Chloe. "What a complete surprise. That is such bu…"

"Such what, Ms Price?" said Wells, but Joyce spoke first.

"Chloe is upset for her friend," she said. "However, we are both grateful that she is not going to be unduly blamed for what happened."

"I haven't come to Ms Price yet, Mrs Price," said Wells. "There is plenty of blame to go around, I assure you. We will now come to discuss Chloe's future at Blackwell. Unless you have something to add, Ms Price?"

Joyce's hand tightened on Chloe's shoulder and she got the message. "No," she said. "Nothing to add." She looked across at Rachel with regret in her eyes.

"I'm glad. Although you may not have been the mastermind of yesterday's events, Ms Price, it was, as I prefaced, the proverbial last straw. In light of the events of yesterday, and your many past transgressions, including the bullying of Mr Prescott and the sabotaging of Miss Chase, I have no choice but to suspend you for the rest of the year."

"Suspend Chloe?" Joyce disbelief showed on her face. "But Rachel confessed!"

"And she will be punished accordingly. But that does not absolve Chloe of her responsibility."

"She tried to help her friend, who was struggling," said Joyce. "And she gets punished for it. What sort of message does that send to her? Don't help your friends? Don't help people obviously in distress?" She laughed. It wasn't a pleasant laugh. "You know, Chloe has said many things about you in the past. I've always thought she was exaggerating. But now, I see that actually, she didn't go nearly far enough."

"Mrs Price…"

"Don't you 'Mrs Price' me, Wells," said Joyce. "You know what? Chloe did wrong. I accept that, and we will be having words about her responsibilities and behaviour later this evening. However, I am beginning to see exactly why her behaviour is as it is. You are no principal." Her words brought shocked looks from everyone else in the room, in particular Wells. "You are a puppet. Nothing more, nothing less."

"I'm sorry," he said, but once again, Joyce cut him off.

"Look, I don't know what happened yesterday, all I know is what I've heard in the room today. You have one girl who has confessed to the wrongdoing, and the other girl who was trying to help her. You dole out the punishment to the helpful girl whom _you do not like and do not want in your school_ , but keep the girl who's GPA is keeping the school afloat. No offence to you, Rachel, dear," she said, looking over to the other girl. "You punish Chloe for things _she didn't do_ , bullying and sabotaging work? Ha! Don't make me laugh. Prescott's got you in his pocket, hasn't he? Come on, Chloe, we don't want to waste any time in this office. It… it gives me the creeps. Stinks of corruption." She stood and took Chloe's hand.

"Let me remind you, Mrs Price, that Chloe's case for reinstatement begins now," said Wells, trying to regain the front foot. "Her actions… and yours… will be weighed carefully when the time comes."

"Ah, shove it up your ass, Wells," said Joyce, earning a shocked look of disbelief from all in the room, particularly Chloe, who looked at her mother with renewed respect. " _My_ actions? You dare talk to me about _my_ actions? I'd take a long look at your own actions before you look any further."

"I'm sorry that you feel this way, Mrs Price," said Wells, remaining calm, but Chloe could see that behind his eyes, he was struggling. She also noticed a tiny, almost imperceptible shake in his right hand. "I'll have Skip Matthews escort you out, Chloe. You may clean out your locker on the way out. That is all. Good day, Mr and Mrs Amber."

 _Yeah, let's get out of here. He looks like he needs a drink, and quickly. Wouldn't want to come between him and his bottle, would we?_


	20. Aftermath

Outside the principal's office, Rose and James Amber, Rachel's parents were waiting by the door. Rachel looked over to them, then walked over to Chloe, who was standing, waiting for her mother.

"I'm sorry, Chloe," she said, quietly, and the other girl nodded.

"Me too," said Chloe. "But it's bullshit, it really is. Thanks for… just thanks."

"No worries, babe," said Rachel. She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. "Meet me at the junkyard later?"

"You bet," said Chloe. "Not like I've got anything else to do," she added, a little sadly, and Rachel nodded, touching her shoulder.

"See you later," she whispered and re-joined her parents. Joyce walked over to them.

"Hi, I didn't get the chance to introduce myself earlier," she said, shaking both Rose and James's hands. "I'm Joyce Price. Chloe's mother."

"Mrs Price," acknowledged James, but Rose went further.

"I'm Rose, and this is my husband, James," she said. "I'm sorry we had to meet like this."

"No, I'm sorry," said Joyce. "I'm sure for you this is an unusual circumstance. However… please don't get the idea that Chloe is a bad person. It looks like she and Rachel have become friends. You should know she's fiercely loyal to her friends, and she's not a bad girl. She's got a very good heart."

"We really should be going," said Rachel's father, putting his arm around his daughter. "Come on. Nice to meet you," he said, as an afterthought as the three of them left the school. From behind, Chloe heard footsteps and she turned to see Skip Matthews approaching her with a look of sadness on his face.

"Mom, I'm just going to…"

"I'll be in the parking lot," said Joyce. "Don't dawdle, okay?" She shook her head and left through the main entrance, leaving Chloe with Skip.

"Hey Chloe," he said, nodding at her. "I'm, um, supposed to walk you out."

"Hi dude. Just you and me, eh?"

Skip shook his head. "Fuck 'em," he said. "Bunch of fascists, all of 'em." He led Chloe down the corridor. "Hey, look, I just wanted to say… it sucks what's happening to you."

"Thanks, Skip." Chloe stopped walking and turned to the security guard. "Look, I know I've not been… exactly an angel here, but I'd like you to know that I really do respect you. You're one of the few people who didn't judge me, and would actually take the time to talk to me."

"Hey, don't fret, Chloe," he said, smiling. "You're a cool kid, you know. Someone worth knowing." He paused. "You'll be missed." He paused again. "And not just by me."

"Thanks., Skip." They began walking again and Chloe soon reached her locker. She opened it and peered inside. Carelessly, she threw her schoolbooks and a couple of music posters into the bin nearby. She paused when she took down a photo of her and Max, taken a couple of years previous. She moved to throw it away but found she couldn't bring herself to part with it, so she tucked it into her pocket. Once the locker was empty, she reached into the secret compartment at the back to find her emergency stash. Her fingers settled around a roll of paper, but when she drew it out, she was disappointed to see that it was just a note from Justin, apologising for borrowing the stash and promising to put it back the following week.

"Shit," she muttered to herself. "Foiled again! Goddamit, Justin!"

 _Fuck it! Fuck every inch of this place! I need to… but not with Skip watching._

She slammed her locker closed, then looked at Skip.

"Bathroom, then I'm out. Cool?"

Skip sighed. "Sure, Chloe. Make it quick, won't you?"

"You won't even know I'm there," said Chloe, walking quickly to the girls' bathroom. As soon as the door closed behind her, she uncapped her black marker and went on something of a graffiti rampage. 'Insubordinate – Wells', 'Kid – Bouncer', 'Women take forever to get ready – David', drawings of leaves, flowers, herself all adorned the various walls, mirrors, cubicle doors of the bathroom. A giant bird adorned the wall, spreading its wings around the entirety of the mirrors and sinks. She finished her final drawing, a giant hand with the middle finger raised drawn on the floor of the bathroom and grinned. "Fuck you, Wells," she whispered as she put the cap back on her marker and sauntered outside. As she did so, she nearly bumped into Victoria Chase, going in the opposite direction. Her grin grew even wider as she saw Victoria enter the bathroom, quietly counting down on her fingers before the inevitable…

"Hey!" called Victoria, from inside the bathroom. Chloe just grinned. "Coming?" she said to Skip as he led her out of the building towards the parking lot.

…

Chloe walked in silence with Skip to the entrance of the parking lot, where he left her with a friendly "Later, Chloe." She responded in kind, then turned to look around the parking lot. She saw her mother immediately, standing next to…

 _Fuck! David!_

Joyce had obviously ridden in with David; they were both standing by his blue car, talking animatedly.

 _Probably talking about me._

Her phone buzzed, and she quickly unlocked it to see a text from Rachel.

 _RACHEL [Wells blows. Seriously, that meeting hella sucked dick]_

 _CHLOE [Yeah, I know. Exactly what I've come to expect from the guy. He's a fucking drunk]_

 _RACHEL [You think?]_

 _CHLOE [I know, dude. Didn't you see him shaking there at the end? He can't go an hour without a drink. That's withdrawal all the way]_

 _RACHEL [Wow, I didn't notice that! Kudos to your observatory powers, Price.]_

 _CHLOE [You're hella weird, you know that?]_

 _RACHEL [I am? You mean you are]_

 _CHLOE [Meh]_

 _RACHEL [Seriously, that was bollocks]_

 _CHLOE [It's ok, Rache. Yesterday was totally worth it]_

 _RACHEL [c u later]_

 _CHLOE [Looking forward to it. U know what time yet?]_

 _RACHEL [Nah. Depends on what happens next. I'm pretty sure Mom and Dad will want to talk to me when we get home]_

 _CHLOE [Yeah. Mom and David are waiting by the car for me. I don't think they want to wait until we get home]_

 _RACHEL [Keep calm, Chloe, ok? I know you can get riled up quite easily, but now isn't the time. Keep calm, my friend]_

 _CHLOE [Can't promise anything, but I'll try]_

 _RACHEL [Thanks. C u later]_

Not wanting to confront her mother yet, Chloe headed around the car park to speak to Eliot, who was leaning up against his car checking out his phone.

"Hey, Eliot," said Chloe as she approached. He looked up and his face transformed into a smile as he recognised her.

"Hi Chloe," he said, then his smile turned into a frown. "What brings you to school on a Saturday morning? Nothing good, I bet."

"You'd win that bet," said Chloe, shaking her head. "I've just been suspended by our drunk principal."

"Wait, what?" said Eliot. "Holy shit! For real?"

"Yeah. I'm surprised it took me this long, too," she said, chuckling sardonically. "I mean, look at me."

"You want a hug?" said Eliot, holding his arms out.

Taken aback, Chloe didn't answer right away. "Um, let's not make a big deal out of it, okay?"

"Sorry Chloe, you're right," said Eliot, putting his arms back down with what looked like a flash of disappointment etched on his face. "This sucks."

"For Rachel, too," said Chloe. "She was kicked out of the play because of me. Fucking Wells, such a drunk dick!"

"Yeah, but she'll live," said Eliot. "But how about you? How are you doing? Do you need anything?"

"Feel like a bag of shit, man," said Chloe. "I mean, I've been kicked out of school, I've been humiliated in front of my mother and best friend…"

"Best friend? You mean Rachel?" said Eliot, breaking out into laughter.

"Yeah, so what? What are you getting at?"

"Look Chloe, I respect you, you know that. I look out for you, you should know that also. I mean, I _always_ look out for you, yeah? Rachel won't do that for you. She just goes after whatever gets her the most likes. She wouldn't be a proper friend to you, not like… I mean, you need to watch out… be careful what you talk to her about, get me?"

"Right," said Chloe, frowning. "DO you know Rachel, then?"

"Do I know Rachel?" he repeated, frowning. "I thought I just told you, she's not the sort of person you want to get to know. She's… flaky, Chloe. Not like me. I mean, she can't give you everything you need."

"So you don't know her?"

"Did you just listen to me?"

"Of course I did, Eliot," said Chloe, starting to feel a little uneasy. "I'm just confused as to how you know so much about Rachel if you don't know Rachel."

"I don't want to talk about Rachel," he said. "I want to talk about you, and how you're doing. Are you okay? Do you need anything from me?"

"Nah, I'm good thanks," said Chloe. "So what exactly are _you_ doing here? As you said, weekend and all?"

"I thought I'd come along to grab some tickets for tonight," he said, calming down. "You know, for the Tempest later? You said we can go together."

 _Oh shit, yeah, I did, didn't I?_

"Did you get my text about hanging out afterwards?" he added, and Chloe shook her head.

"Sorry Eliot, I haven't really checked my phone this morning," she lied. "In fact, after what's just happened, I don't know if I want to go at all. The thought of being at Blackwell at all just makes me want to vom."

"Yeah, yeah," said Eliot, "that makes sense. I should have thought of that. Well, never mind about the show then. Where should we hang out? You want to come along to my place, or should I come to yours?"

"What?" Chloe looked directly at Eliot, trying to see any ulterior motive. "Look, I think I'll just chill around at home. You don't mind, right?"

"It's totally cool," said Eliot, his face betraying his reaction to the rejection. "Don't worry about it. I'll.. see you around then, right?"

"Yeah," Chloe said, nodding to where her mother was still waiting by the car with David. "Look, my mom is waiting to sic her attack moustache on me." Eliot frowned, so she gestured towards the car. "Her boyfriend. Don't worry about it. I'll see you around." She walked over to where Joyce and David were still talking. Luckily, it didn't seem like they'd noticed her talking to Eliot. Joyce acknowledged her as she approached and motioned for Chloe to stand alongside her.

"It's about damn time," growled David and immediately Chloe's hackles rose.

"Yeah? And who said you could tag along? This is supposed to be a family thing. You know, family?" she retorted.

"David please," said Joyce, hurriedly stepping in to avoid a blowup. "I'll handle this. Chloe, you too, calm down, okay? How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," said Chloe.

"Watch your language, young lady, or…"

"David, please, I said I'll handle this," said Joyce, curtly, cutting off her boyfriend again. "Chloe, after today…"

"Chloe, your mother and I have been talking," said David, unable to stay quiet despite another glare from Joyce.

"Right. Can we do this later please?" said Chloe. "I don't think I can handle another fight just now."

"Is that right? And who do you expect to handle things for you, young lady? Your mother?"

"This isn't a fight, Chloe," said Joyce, her gentle voice breaking across David's growl. "It's a conversation. Remember that. And David, I won't ask again, okay? Leave me handle this."

"Yeah, right," said Chloe. "I don't need another conversation. Not with Sergeant Asshat here. I just need space. You know, alone time. Me time. Whatever you want to call it. I need it."

"Watch your language, Chloe," warned David.

"Or what? David? What will you do? Hit me?"

"You do not want to test me."

"You do not want to hit me, David," said Chloe. "You _really_ don't."

"Chloe, we just want to help," said Joyce.

"Yeah, I'm sure you do."

"I know what you did," said Joyce. "I found that money in my purse. Chloe, I appreciate it, you know I do, but I need to know where it came from?"

"Does it really matter?"

"It matters to me, Chloe," said Joyce.

"I… re-distributed it," said Chloe.

"You stole it?" growled David. "I knew it! I knew you'd…"

"Not exactly," said Chloe. "I found it, okay? I found it and instead of keeping it or handing it in or some bullshit, I gave it to mom. And I'd appreciate you not kicking the fucking cow around the field every time I say something. Yeah?"

"Chloe…"

"We need money, Mom, don't we?"

"I'm providing as best as I can, Chloe. Look, I appreciate what you did, I'm just… I'm worried about you, Chloe."

"Maybe if you'd try listening to me, instead of fighting me about absolutely everything, you might actually learn a thing or two?" said David, breaking in once again.

"Like what? How to be a soldier?"

"Now listen here, Chloe," said David, drawing himself up to his full height. "Soldiers always put family and future above self and now. Getting kicked out of school? That's what losers do."

"David!" snapped Joyce. "That's out of line. You weren't with us in there. Chloe was treated shamefully by that principal. It was… absolutely blatant, what he did."

"Now you're making excuses for her? Chloe needs to take responsibility," said David, but Joyce shook her head.

"I'm her mother. I decide what Chloe needs, David. Not you." She turned back to Chloe. "You had a scholarship, Chloe. Do you know what that means? What sort of opportunity you gave up? Do you really want to work at the diner?"

"There's nothing wrong with waiting tables, Mom. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm not ashamed, Chloe," said Joyce. "I am proud to wait tables at the Two Whales. It means you can be whoever you want to be. You can be whatever you want to be. But what is that, Chloe? What do you want?"

"Mom, I… don't know yet, okay?" said Chloe. "To be brutally honest with you, I've no idea. You ever think about that?"

"Chloe, maybe you've had long enough to think it over," said David. "Maybe it's time you got off your…"

"No," said Joyce. "It's not easy to figure out where you stand in life. Chloe, I get that maybe you don't know who you want to be," she continued, "but I _would_ ask that you give yourself the best opportunities, and not limit your choices, yeah?"

"I guess," said Chloe, sullenly.

"Your mother's right," said David, a little more calmly. "If you don't know what you want to do, make sure you keep as many options open as possible."

"Exactly., Which brings me on to the next point, Chloe," said Joyce. "Right now, what I want is for the two of you to start getting along. I'm getting sick and tired of your constant sniping at each other, and I _will not_ be forced into a choice between the two of you. Am I understood?"

"Chloe, despite what you think," said David, "I do care about you. I care… about your mother, too. I'm willing to forgive you for… the incident yesterday if you improve your attitude going forward."

"Incident," said Joyce. "What incident?"

"Chloe was very disrespectful towards me yesterday morning," said David. "She… look, it doesn't matter. But with an apology, I'm willing to start over."

"Chloe? Apologise to David," said Joyce. "Now."

"Are you still going to date my mom?"

"Of course I am," said David.

"And will you still be coming to our house?"

"I… plan to."

"Then I say go fuck yourself."

" _Chloe!_ "

"That's exactly what I feared," said David. "No respect at all, Joyce."

"Respect is earned, David," said Chloe. "You haven't earned my respect."

"And what about your mother, Chloe?" said David. "Has she earned your respect? Because I don't see much respect going her way at the moment, either" He paused and took a breath. "From now on, I will be assisting your mother in a few areas of your continued development. Like making sure you are longer abusing drugs or alcohol."

"David, do you really think now is the best time?" said Joyce, concerned, but David shook his head.

"Joyce, we need to be united on this. It's the only way," he said.

"Mom?" Chloe turned to her mother, concerned, but she shook her head and nodded towards David.

"Chloe, we're going to start right now." continued David, "I'd like you to empty your pockets and place all your belongings on the trunk of the car."

"What the fuck?" Chloe couldn't believe her ears.

"If we are going to start over, I need to know, I mean, _we_ need to know that you are not abusing drugs. Or alcohol. Your pockets. Now, please, Chloe."

"This is bullshit!"

"If you've nothing to hide, then you'll be eager for the chance to prove it. Come on." He tapped the trunk of the car, but Chloe shook her head, still unable to believe what she was hearing.

"If I've nothing to… David, that excuse is the lamest bag of shit I've ever heard. Have you never heard of basic privacy?" She turned to her mother. "Mom, you saw how I was treated in there by Wells. Now you want to treat me the same way? I don't need more discipline from you. I need my mom," she finished, her voice beginning to crack.

"I know, Chloe. And I'm sorry, but David feels…"

"Joyce…"

"I mean, we both feel this is the best way to start fresh."

"Mom?"

"Let's go, Chloe," said David. "Quit stalling."

Chloe looked at David and felt her temper rise uncontrollably. "Sure thing, David," she said, not really aware of what she was saying. "Here you go." She banged the bonnet of his car with her fist and flipped him the finger. "Show me a warrant, asshole," she said.

"You watch far too much television," said David. "Your refusal to comply is as good as an admission." He turned to Joyce. "I'm sorry, but…"

"Do you masturbate?" Chloe's question stopped David in his tracks.

"What?"

"You heard, asshole," she said. "Do you masturbate?"

"I don't have to answer that question, Chloe, and you know it," growled David.

"So, I can take your refusal to answer as an admission, can I?" Despite the seriousness of the situation, Chloe heard a small giggle from her mother and allowed herself a quick grin. David just growled at her.

 _Gotcha, sucka!_

"So what happened to trust being a two-way street?" continued Chloe.

"That was before you were suspended, Chloe," said her mother. "Look, I know you haven't always been treated fairly. And I'm not trying to add to that. But Chloe… somewhere along the way, we lost our trust."

"This isn't the way to get it back. Not at all, mom," said Chloe, and Joyce nodded sadly.

"That's it?" said David. "She's basically admitted to being a drug addict, and you're letting her off the hook?"

"I am not letting her off any hook, David," said Joyce, "and Chloe did not admit to being a drug addict. You both need to smarten up," she continued. "Chloe has admitted to nothing. I know my daughter, David, and her refusal to comply speaks far more about her principals than her guilt. I am trying to find a way for us to move on. We need a new beginning. A new beginning for the three of us. Together."

"What does that mean?" said Chloe, carefully, not liking where she thought this was going.

"We both agree," said David, "that the best thing for everyone at this stage is for me to move in."

"No fucking way!" said Chloe. "No way!"

"Chloe, after everything that's happened… I'm at a loss. I need help. I need David's help."

"Exactly," said David. "We need a firmer hand steering the ship." Chloe couldn't speak, she was so angry.

"Chloe, talk to me," said Joyce, sensing her daughter's anger. "Tell me what you're feeling."

"Mom, I…" Chloe's throat closed up. "I know I fucked up. I'm sorry. I know I'm making things harder for you. I don't mean to, I really don't, but sometimes I can't help it."

"Do you mean that? Do you even know what you're apologising for?"

"I've been shutting you out, Mom," said Chloe. "I know I have, even though I've needed you, and you need me, and I know that I've fucked up." Chloe paused. "But this isn't the answer, Mom. It's really not."

"It's the only answer I have, Chloe," said Joyce. "I… I can't take this any more. Not on my own."

"In a million years I never thought you'd choose David over me," shouted Chloe, suddenly. "I'm sorry I took that for granted."

"I'm not choosing anyone over anyone, Chloe," said Joyce. "I told you that earlier. It's about the three of us having a home together."

"Bullshit!"

"It'll be better than you think, Chloe," David said, opening the car door for her. "Once everything's running smoothly, you'll see what a stable home can be like." Chloe glared at him and kicked the door shut.

"There is no home. Not if he's there," she spat, walking away from her mother. Eliot began walking towards her, but backed off when he saw the expression on her face.

" _Chloe!_ "

"Let her go," said David. "She'll come home as soon as her tantrum is over."


	21. Disappointment

"I was looking forward to the play tonight," said Rose, sadly, sitting down on the sofa chair. She'd made a cup of coffee for herself and James; he was already sat in his chair, albeit without his usual newspaper. He didn't even look at his wife when she placed the coffee cup on the table next to his chair. "James, what about…"

"Rose, I'll handle this," he said, waving his arm dismissively, then turning back to face his daugher. "Rachel, I am quite sure you know how I feel, don't you?" His voice was very quiet and deliberate.

"You're disappointed in me?" said Rachel in a small voice.

"One could say that," he said. "However, one could also say that the word 'disappointment' really doesn't come close to how I'm feeling now, and how I was feeling in Ray's office this morning. Can you guess how I was feeling, young lady?"

"No, Daddy," said Rachel. She knew the danger that her father's quiet voice signalled.

"I'll tell you exactly how I was feeling," he said. His voice had now dropped to barely a whisper, and Rachel had to strain to hear him. " _HUMILIATED!_ " he shouted, suddenly, causing both his wife and daughter to jump; Rose spilling the coffee as she did so. " _I am totally humiliated!_ " he roared, standing up to his full height. "Never in my life have I been made to feel _this_ small! And in front of Ray Wells, too!"

"Daddy…"

"You have _no_ idea how embarrassing that was, to face Ray Wells like that. Having to ask him to be lenient on you, having to _beg_ for you... My _God_ , Rachel, do you realise what you've done? You've completely undermined all the years of trust we've put into you…"

"James…" said Rose, but her husband was having none of it.

"Be quiet, Rose, I'm taking care of this," he said, turning back to Rachel. "Explain yourself, young lady. And do it quickly." Rachel just looked at him, dumbfounded after his outburst. "Say something," he said, again, but Rachel was still speechless, so he continued, his voice now calm and deliberate once more. "To think of the hours and hours I've put into your upbringing, young lady, only to have it thrown back in my face like it doesn't matter," he continued. "Well, let me tell you something, _it does matter!_ Look at me. I'm your father, but I'm also the District Attorney. That means that I have to adhere to a _far_ higher standard of expectation that your average Joe Public in the street. _Far higher_! We are so much better than that. It also means that anything that _you_ do, every time _you_ misbehave, it gives my opponents ammunition which they can use against _me_. And believe me, they'll be only too happy to use it against me. For fuck's sake, Rachel," he continued, his cursing a surprise for both his wife and daughter, "don't you see what you've done? It's two-thousand and ten, Rachel, not ninety-eighty-four any more." He was getting more and more worked up, his voice rising slowly in pitch like she'd seen him do so many times on the campaign trial. "The country's on the brink, Rachel, and people like you and me have to make a stand against the lower class. My God, I've even heard a rumour that Donald Trump might be standing for President in six years. My God, Rachel, do you even _realise_ what that means?"

"James…"

" _Not now_ , Rose," said James. He'd stood up now. "We have to make a stand. _You_ and _me_ , Rachel. And that means that I _cannot_ be seen to be out of control of my own family. How do you think it looks to my opponents if I'm supposed to be in charge of the city's justice department and I can't even control the behaviour of my own flesh and blood? They'll think it's their birthdays and Christmases all come at once! I'll never recover, Rachel. And it'll be _your_ fault, because you can't control yourself. Have I really brought you up that badly? Have I?"

"Daddy, I…"

"No, I haven't brought you up badly. It must be something else, mustn't it? I know it's nothing that _I've_ done. I've done everything right by you, Rachel. I've taught you right from wrong, you've wanted for nothing, you're popular in school, your achievements are fantastic. Up to now you've been a credit to me. So something else must have sent you off the rails. Maybe it's that girl from this morning. I can't remember who she was, she had a silly name. Kara? Something like that? Anyway, her. Has she sent you off the rails, Rachel?"

"Daddy, I…"

"Because if she has," said James, "if I find out that it was her that orchestrated your little jaunt around the Bay yesterday, that would… that would not be healthy for you. Or her. You understand that, right?"

"Daddy, I…"

"I can't have you running around, disobeying orders, misbehaving in public. I can't have it, Rachel. Do you understand?"

"Daddy…"

" _Do you understand?"_ he shouted, and Rachel began crying in earnest. " _Answer me, you filthy little miscreant!_ " There was a shocked silence after his outburst and James, perhaps realising how far he'd gone, stopped talking and sat back down again, breathing heavily. While he calmed down, Rose put her arm around her daughter, trying to calm her down. Rachel had been shocked into silence and her crying had stopped, but her face told Rose everything she needed to know. She glared at her husband, then turned back to Rachel.

"Honey, was it really your idea?" said her mother, breaking the silence and Rachel nodded, dumbly. "But why, darling? After all we've taught you, why?"

"I'm sorry, mom," she cried. "I didn't meant to embarrass you or Daddy, I just…" she broke off, unsure of what to say next.

"What is it, darling?"

"Rose…"

"Hush now, James, you had your turn, now let _me_ talk to her," said Rose. "Is something troubling you, honey?" she said, putting her arm around her daughter and letting her cry. "I know what Daddy has said, but it's so unlike you to break the rules. I'm just concerned there's something wrong? Maybe _we've_ done something wrong?"

"Don't be silly, Rose," said James. "Of course we haven't done anything wrong! The only troublemaker here is our daughter." He looked back at Rachel. "So, Rachel, would you kindly let us know what the hell you were thinking?"

"James, don't upset her again," said Rose. "You really didn't handle that well just now, did you? Why don't you go and get ready? You'll need to change before we go out later."

"Rose, you can't be serious!" said James. "We're not going to the show now, are we?"

"We bought the tickets," said Rose, "and I would actually like to see the show. Actually," she said in a stage-whisper to Rachel, "I want to see how badly that understudy of yours does." That earned a wan smile from her daughter. "Look James, go and get changed. You can take me out this afternoon before we go to the show, okay?" After some reluctance, her husband rose from his chair and headed upstairs. As he did so, Rose turned to her daughter. "Okay Rachel," she said, "now that Dad isn't here, what's really going on?"

"What do you mean, Mom?" said Rachel. She'd calmed down some, but there were still tears streaking her eyes.

"Don't patronise me," said Rose, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Just because I'm not as vocal as your father doesn't mean I'm stupid. I know something is going on, honey, so why don't you talk to me?"

"Mom, I.."

"You like her, don't you?" said Rose, and Rachel blinked. The conversation had just thrown a massive curveball and she wasn't sure how to deal with it.

"Mom?"

"That girl. What was her name again? Carol?"

"Chloe," said Rachel.

"Chloe, that's right. You like her, don't you? And don't try to deny it, I saw exactly what you did this morning."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Rachel Amber, I have known you since you were bo… I've known you a long time, a long time indeed. Not much gets past me. I saw the way you looked at her, the odd stolen glance. I also know that you covered for her this morning so she wouldn't get expelled."

"Mom?"

"Your father doesn't always see these things, but I do," said Rose. "He tends to say, and between you and me, he says really rather a lot when he doesn't have to. I just tend to watch. And so, I see far more. And I saw the look that passed between you and Chloe this morning. The principal was about to expel her, wasn't he? And you stepped in at the last minute."

"Mom…"

"Don't try to deny it, Rachel. I know you did. It was a very noble thing you did, throwing yourself on your sword like that." Rose paused. "Why do you think we're still going to the show tonight?"

"Mom, I…"

"Is she worth it, Rachel?" said Rose. "You've never been in trouble before, you've risked the wrath of your father, all for your friend. You've known her, what, a week?"

"Just a couple of days, Mom…"

"… then she'd better be worth it, Rachel," Rose said, gently. "Is she?" She was so sincere that Rachel let herself relax.

"Truthfully, I've no idea," said Rachel. "She could be, but I don't know yet. All I know is that she didn't deserve to be expelled over what happened yesterday. See, the thing is…"

"Yes?"

"… that she wasn't actually to blame." At these words Rose snapped her attention fully to her daughter. "Yes Mom, it _was_ me. Chloe didn't exactly protest, but it was my idea to skip school."

"But why Rachel? Why risk your permanent record for something like that?"

"I… I can't tell you that Mom, not right now, okay?"

"Is it important?" At this Rachel nodded her head.

"It is, Mom," she said. "But please don't ask me about it. It's… not something I'm ready to talk about just yet. I needed some space." Rachel took a deep breath. "I was upset, and Chloe did really help me. I was so glad she came with me yesterday. She didn't have to."

"This Chloe, she came with you, knowing that she'd probably get in trouble?"

"Yes."

Rose was silent for a few seconds, thinking. "You might be right," she mused. "That's the sign of a good friend."

"I think so, Mom," said Rachel.

"Just a friend?" said Rose, smiling, but Rachel shook her head.

"Just a friend," she said. "But a good one, I think."

"I'm not going to forbid you to see her," said her mother, and inwardly Rachel heaved a huge sigh of relief, "mainly because I don't think that's fair, and you'd probably find a way to stay in contact anyhow. It seems like she needs your friendship as much as you need hers."

"Mom?"

"I'm not stupid, Rachel," said Rose, "as I said earlier. I know you, remember? I know you're popular at school, but I also know you don't bring any of your friends back here so I'm thinking the popularity might be something of a façade. I think you need Chloe as much as she needs you. I think that it could be the start of a good friendship, but please, Rachel, don't let Chloe steer you off the rails. I know she could do that, but I'd rather you helped her get back on. Okay?"

"Okay Mom," said Rachel.

"Now go," said Rose. "Before your father changes his mind. We'll be at the show tonight. I'm still hoping the principal might change his mind and allow you back in."

"I doubt that very much," said Rachel. "You saw how much he was salivating at the prospect of Victoria Chase taking over my role."

"Is she the only understudy?" said Rose.

"Uh, yeah," said Rachel. "Why?"

"I just wondered," said Rose. "So what would happen if the understudy wasn't able to take the role?"

"Um, there'd be no-one to take the role," said Rachel.

"So if she got sick, or, I don't know, had a panic attack, they'd have to ask you to take your role back or there'd be no show," said Rose, raising her eyebrows. "Would that be… accurate?"

"I guess so, Mom. Um, why are you saying that?" said Rachel.

"No reason," said her mother. "Just giving you something to think about. Remember, it's not over until the fat lady sings. Now go on, get out of here. Your friend is out there, and if this morning is anything to go by, she needs you. Just don't forget to be at Blackwell later tonight. You never know what might happen."


	22. Which way is up?

Chloe exhaled slowly, the cloud of smoke rising gently into the air.

 _How do you know which way is up when your whole world has been turned upside-down?_

She opened her eyes to see the world we, in fact, upside-down. In front of her, clinging to the sky, were old cars, piles of junk, the school bus and everything else.

 _Figures._

She eased herself off the bonnet she'd been lying on, secretly glad when the world righted itself. She'd been at the junkyard for some time after walking away from David and her mother. Actually, the junkyard (she'd come to know it as American Rust) was further away than she'd realised, especially when she had to walk there. After arriving, she was slightly out of breath (and still fuming) and had lain down on the junk to catch her breath and try to calm down. She looked around the junkyard with pride. It was hers! She was only person here, the only one who knew of its existence. Well, apart from Rachel.

 _Sweet. Home away from hell._

"I'm done with Blackwell," she said, curious to see how her voice would sound in the isolation of American Rust. It sounded… a bit strained. "I'm done with you!" she screamed, her voice carrying to all corners of the junkyard. Several birds took flight and Chloe smiled, pleased with the effect. "You can all go to hell!"

 _Truth is, Blackwell's done with me._

 _And I can't go home either._

 _I don't have a home._

 _Is this all I have left? A junkyard?_

She jumped down to the ground, picking up the baseball bat she'd used the previous evening. Swinging the bat as she walked, she casually knocked over a few bottles as she sauntered through the junkyard.

 _Bored. Wish Ma… wish Rachel was here._

 _You wish Max was here, too, don't you?_

 _Max isn't here, though. Max doesn't want to know me. Rachel does._

 _Don't you think you're being a little harsh? Max moved away, you know._

 _She abandoned me. Yeah, she moved away, but she never calls, never texts. Not a squeak from her._

 _Hmm. She never calls. You call?_

 _What?_

 _She never texts. When was the last time you contacted her?_

 _Not the point._

 _Totally the point. Friendship is a double-edged sword, you know. Agreed, she hasn't contacted you, but you haven't contacted her either. You must take half of that blame for that, you know._

 _…_

 _What? Cat got your tongue?_

 _I fucking hate you sometimes._

 _Hahahahahaha._

 _Shut up. Just shut up. I hate logic._

 _Hahahahahahahahah!_

 _Shut up! Shut the fuck up!_

She wandered further into the junkyard, smashing a few things here and there, when she came upon a truck. It was, like everything else, battered, rusted and lifeless, and Chloe raised her bat, but something clicked in her and she didn't go ahead with the planned beating.

 _Wait a sec… this isn't all that beat up._

 _Hmm, potential maybe?_

She looked around the truck. It was certainly rusted and battered, but she could see the possibility that it might not be completely beyond hope. With some difficulty she popped the bonnet, and wrinkled her face up in disgust as she saw the state of the engine.

 _Shit. Not good._

She could see immediately that the battery was way beyond any help. It was rusted and encrusted with something very green, and something she really didn't want to know, so, with a little effort, she managed to pry it out and cast it on the floor a little way away from the truck. The feel of the battery was slimy and horrible and she spent a good few minutes rubbing her hand in the dirt to try and rid herself of the feeling of handling that battery.

 _Well, there's a chance I can fix this, with a little research. But I'm pretty sure that battery will never run again, so I'm gonna need a replacement. Bound to be one around here somewhere, surely. Plenty of cars and trucks to choose from, yeah?_

As she began looking around, her phone buzzed. It was her mother.

 _JOYCE: [Chloe, I'm at my wit's end with you, really. David's just trying to do what he thinks is best, but you're fighting him every step of the way. It has to stop, Chloe. It has to stop now, you understand?]_

 _CHLOE: [Mom, he's such a tool]_

 _JOYCE: [He's trying. He's trying hard, Chloe. And be more respectful. It didn't help that you refused to empty your pockets.]_

 _CHLOE: [There was actually nothing in them]_

 _JOYCE: [I suspected as much, Chloe, but that's not the point.]_

 _CHLOE: [It's the principle of the thing. I don't like people going through my stuff. You know that. It boils my blood. Whether or not I had anything to hide is irrelevant.]_

 _JOYCE: [I know, sweetie, but he's really trying here. You getting suspended isn't helping.]_

 _CHLOE: [That was bullshit, mom. You know that, right?]_

 _JOYCE: [I was there, honey, don't forget. Yes, it was a farce of a meeting. But you did cut school yesterday. For whatever reason, you did do it. And you know your overall behaviour hasn't exactly been perfect.]_

 _CHLOE: [I know that, mom. I was just trying to help Rachel yesterday]_

 _JOYCE: [I know, honey. I think it's great that you've made a new friend, and I know how loyal you are towards your friends and that is completely admirable. But sometimes you also have to think about yourself, and the consequences of your actions. And Chloe? Sometimes you also have to think about me, and how this affects me.]_

 _CHLOE: [I know mom. I'm sorry, but maybe I just need some space, yeah?]_

 _JOYCE: [Maybe I just need my daughter back, Chloe.]_

 _CHLOE: [Ok, mom. You don't have to lay it on quite so thick]_

 _JOYCE: [Come home, please, sweetie. I love you.]_

 _CHLOE: [I love you too, mom. You'll see me later]_

 _JOYCE: [Promise?]_

 _CHLOE: [Ok mom, I promise]_

 _JOYCE: [Thank you, Chloe.]_

Chloe closed her phone and put it in her pocket, feeling more than a little guilty for the way she was treating her mother.

 _But mom, you're letting David move in! That is totally unforgiveable!_

She continued looking around the junkyard for the battery. She felt a pang of… something when she saw the instant camera that she'd smashed up the previous evening.

 _Max…_

 _You really did a number on that, didn't you?_

 _She makes me so angry._

 _Who, Max?_

 _Who else do you think?_

 _Well, you, for one. You're angry at yourself, aren't you?_

 _Why?_

 _Several reasons. One. Max left and didn't contact you, but then, out of some pious bullshit, you didn't contact her either. Two. William died and you think it's your fault._

 _Bullshit._

 _Bullshit? You remember that day, right?_

 _How could I forget?_

 _You remember how Max was acting weird? You remember what she said to you, right after William left the house to die, I mean, go pick up Joyce? She said…_

 _'Hella best friends'_

 _No, not that, silly. Although…_

 _I thought I'd heard 'hella' before Rachel said it on the train…_

 _No, the other thing she said. She was quite urgent and insistent about it, remember? She said…_

 _'Listen to me, Chloe, I need you to promise me something. Whatever happens, I want you to be strong. Even if you feel like I wasn't there for you, because I will never abandon you.'_

 _Yeah. That's it. That she'll always have your back._

 _I remember. The words are burned in my brain. That whole day is, really._

 _Don't you think it's a little odd why she'd say that? You think perhaps she knew what was coming?_

 _What? Don't be stupid, nobody can see the future._

 _Maybe she somehow knew what was coming, I don't know. But I reckon that you blame yourself for not picking up on it. I know you wonder from time to time how things would be different if William hadn't died._

 _Bullshit!_

 _No, not bullshit! Don't forget, I know you Chloe Elizabeth Price. I don't think you're as mad at Max as you make out._

 _She abandoned me!_

 _No! She didn't! Don't forget those words from her. She didn't abandon you. She moved away and you BOTH lost contact. I don't think you're angry at her at all._

 _Really? What do you mean?_

 _I think it's more than anger. I think it's something else entirely._

 _Oh? Do enlighten me with your innovative insight._

 _Ha! Big words don't scare me, you dope._

 _Just tell me._

 _In one word: jealous._

 _What?_

 _You're jealous of Max._

 _Bollocks!_

 _No, seriously, you are._

 _Don't talk shit. I'm not jealous of her._

 _Think about it. What do you want more than anything right now?_

 _To kill David?_

 _Be serious._

 _To get out of here._

 _Here being…_

 _Arcadia._

 _Exactly. And what has Max done?_

 _Left Arcadia._

 _Exactly. You're jealous of her getting out of here and leaving you behind._

 _Look, I'm not going to argue…_

 _There's anger there as well, you know. Lots of anger. Don't forget I know you better than you know yourself. There's always anger there. But there's also a lot of jealousy, and it's something you can't ignore._

 _But I'll be escaping soon with Rachel._

 _Quite possibly._

Chloe found an old, rusted car, but, when she popped the bonnet, she could see straight away that the battery wouldn't be suitable. It was covered in… something. Rust, possibly, or maybe something worse. She left it well alone and carried on looking.

 _Why only possibly?_

 _It hasn't happened yet. You've only talked about it with Rachel. It might not happen, you know._

 _It might happen._

 _I agree, it might. And I know it's something you want, but also something you're quite scared about._

 _Scared? Me?_

 _Don't try that with me. Remember, I'm you. I know you. And I know the idea of striking out on your own scares you._

 _I won't be on my own._

 _Rachel, yes, I know. But you've only just met. You don't know if you can trust her yet._

 _I think I can._

 _Possibly, you can. But what's to say that, a week after you leave, she leaves you? Or you have a fight? Hell, she could get run over by a bus, or kidnapped, murdered… The thing is, you just don't know._

 _Fucking morbid, you are._

 _Just realistic, Chloe. Just realistic._

She tripped while thinking and, once she'd regained her balance, she looked down to see what it was she'd tripped over. There was a small cardboard box on the ground. Intrigued, she bent down and opened it to find a small bobblehead in the style of a leather-clad Elvis. Grinning, she pocketed it and carried on looking.

 _Awesome dashboard decoration for my new old truck._

 _Stop being distracted._

 _I'm not!_

 _Then where's the magic battery?_

 _Um…_

 _Exactly. What about that white truck over there? That one looks promising._

Chloe noticed the white truck parked over in the corner. It looked old and rusted, like all the others, but it also looked a little lonely. It was parked on its own, its front left wheel clamped to prevent it from moving ever again. She smiled and tried to pop the bonnet, but to no avail. Frowning, she tried again, straining as she failed to move it even one inch.

 _Maybe there's a latch or something inside._

The driver's door was missing, and she could see straight away there was a small latch underneath the dash. She pulled it and grinned when the bonnet popped up. Now she was able to raise the bonnet and prop it up.

 _There you are, my pretty!_

The battery looked in decent condition. Well, decent considering the age and condition of the rest of the truck. Like all batteries, it was very heavy and Chloe struggled to lift it out of the truck and carry it across the junkyard to her new old truck. Eventually she made it and hefted the battery up. As carefully as she could, she fitted it into the battery tray and rejoiced when it fitted perfectly.

 _Nice!_

She quickly wired it up, jumping back when she received a short, sharp shock from the wires. She grinned.

 _It's got some oomph in it, then._

Once she'd finished wiring up the battery, she jumped inside the truck, looking around for an ignition key. She couldn't find one, but there was a screwdriver on the dashboard, which came in handy. However, as much as she tried, she couldn't get the engine to fire. There was definitely juice in the battery, but the engine looked like it needed more love. Disappointed, she looked around the vehicle.

 _You know, it's not in bad shape. Could do with a little sprucing up, maybe._

Decision made, she jumped out of the truck and continued search the junkyard for materials. Within fifteen minutes, she'd found a nice blue light from a toy robot she'd seen, and a cracking pirate flag draped over the side of a boat. Together with the Elvis bobblehead, and an old rug she found to cover the hole in the floor, she was quite pleased with the way the cab looked. She'd even found the time to draw a large Illuminati-style all-seeing eye on the back of the cab.

 _Starting to feel like… mine. Like home._

 _You have a home._

 _Shut up!_

She sat in the cab, looking around, her feet up on the dashboard.

 _Looking pretty sweet._

 _If it ever starts._

 _True. But I'll give it a go. It just needs love._

 _A lot of love._

 _I can try my best._

 _Even if you fix it up, it'll probably drive like a brick on ice._

 _Fucking ray of fucking sunshine you are! You're so defeatist. Can't you just think positive for a change?_

 _I'm defeatist?_

 _Ah shut up, you're getting on my nerves._

 _Ok, ok, I'm gone. But not forgotten. I'll be…_

Chloe jerked back to reality when her phone began ringing. She saw who was calling and quickly answered the call.

"Hi. You've reached the phone of… Chloe… Price," she said, woodenly. "I'm here right now so you can talk to me personally. Please start talking after the tone, and just hang up when you get bored. Beep." She grinned.

"Price?"

"Frank?"

"Ha ha. Very funny," said Frank.

"What's up?"

"Just checking in to see how you're doing."

"Bullshit, Frank," said Chloe, good-naturedly. "You never check up on me. What do you want?"

"We've got some… uh… business to discuss."

"Um, okay," said Chloe, now a little wary. "What sort of business?"

"Not over the phone, Chloe, you know that," said Frank.

"Am I in trouble?"

"Have you done anything you should be in trouble for?"

"You mean, to you, or in general?"

"Chloe, don't worry," said Frank, sensing the concern in her voice. "I just need to talk business with you, that's all. Where are you hiding out?"

"Um, a junkyard north of town," said Chloe.

"A junkyard? Perfect. Stay there, I won't be long."

"Ok, cheers dude." Chloe hung up and slid back in the cab seat, closing her eyes.

 _Time for a well-earned break, methinks._


	23. Playtime

Chloe groaned as she opened her eyes. Her right leg slipped off the truck dashboard and hit the seat, jarring her knee and causing her to sit up straight, merely jarring it further. "Ow!" she cried, cradling her leg and rubbing her knee. As she did so, she caught sight of the drawing she'd done earlier in the day.

Although it wasn't the drawing she'd done earlier in the day.

"What the…" said Chloe, twisting around, the pain in her leg totally forgotten. The all-seeing eye she had drawn earlier in the day was now quite animated, shuddering and shaking around, looking directly at Chloe while flapping its wings. As she looked, it stopped moving and glowed a bright red then faded away. Chloe shook her head to clear it, then looked outside the truck. What she saw completely floored her.

"Dad?" she whispered, her jaw dropping open. Sitting in front of his battered car (which was now burning merrily) was William. He was sat on a crate with a crow, roasting marshmallows over the burning car. As she looked, the forest fire still burning in the background, he beckoned to her, pointing at a spare crate next to him. Obediently, she left the truck and wandered over to him, sitting down next to him. "Dad?" she said again, as her father pulled his marshmallow out of the fire and let the crow peck at it.

"What are we doing here?"

William completely ignored her and speared a second marshmallow, inserting it into the fire and smiling sadly.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" When she said this, the crow cawed and nodded at her marshmallow. She got the message and picked up a stick, stabbing her own marshmallow and roasting it on the fire.

"Amazing sight, isn't it?" said William, nodding at the forest fire in the distance. "It's really quite hypnotic. I can't look away." He paused, then, when Chloe didn't reply, he continued. "Don't pretend you're not mesmerised by it, too, honey." Chloe continued to look at the fire in the distance. From where they sat, they couldn't actually see most of the flames, but the orange glow danced in the night sky. He was right; she couldn't look away.

"See?" he said, not looking away from the fire, "you're so drawn to it, you don't even realise the danger."

"Danger?" said Chloe. She looked down to see that her hand had caught fire. While she was mesmerised by the fire in the distance, her hand and reached closer and closer into the fire, eventually catching fire itself. It didn't hurt or burn, although her hand did feel quite hot, but the shock of seeing her hand burning merrily made her drop her stick (which was pretty much charred now) and pat her hand until it went out. She turned to look at her father, who had put down his stick, letting the crow eat the rest of the marshmallow. He was sat facing the fire, but his body was turned so that Chloe couldn't see his face.

"Fire blinds us, Chloe, just like the darkness does. But darkness blinds us with absence. With loss." He put his hands up in front of his face, looking through them like a picture frame.

"What about fire? What does that blind us with?" As she said this, he waved his arm from left to right, making the fire completely disappear. "How do you do that?" she asked. At this question, William just smiled.

"Fire does blind us," he said. "But it doesn't blind us with absence like darkness does. It blinds us with beauty, Chloe."

"Fire can be beautiful," she said.

"Yes, it can. But sometimes there's a greater beauty yet to come," he continued. "And fire is jealous. It wants all the beauty for itself. That's why you need to be careful. Be careful, Chloe."

"Careful of what, Dad?" she said, and he turned to face his daughter. Chloe could see his face for the first time and she nearly screamed with shock. It was burned, burned terribly, the skin melting and bubbling. "Dad?" she whispered, but he just smiled, letting the crow land on his shoulder and begin pecking at his burned cheek.

"Be careful you don't get burned," he said, his voice echoing into the distant as the vision grew faint…

…

"Chloe?" The voice sounded distant, but insistent. "Chloe…" Something knocked on the window, jerking Chloe awake. Chloe opened her eyes and sat up, her vision slowly returning to normal. She looked around the truck cab and noticed she was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. "Has anyone ever told you not to fall asleep with a lit cigarette?" said the voice. "You could start a fire. And, I believe, that's _my_ job." Chloe looked up to see Rachel standing outside the truck. She'd changed into a simple black t-shirt, although she was still wearing her electric blue earring. She was also smiling. Chloe stomped out the cigarette on the floor of the truck as Rachel leaned suggestively on the wing mirror. "So," she said, biting her lip, "are you gonna invite me in? Or just leave me hanging?"

"Hmm, I don't know," said Chloe. "My mom says I'm not supposed to give rides to strangers." At this, Rachel laughed, her laugh tinkling in the silence of the junkyard. She pretended to look down at Chloe over a pair of glasses.

"What if I offered you an incentive, Chloe Price?" she said.

"It would have to be the best incentive ever for tempt me to override my mom's rules."

"What if I offered you free candy?" said Rachel, producing a bag of sweets from her pocket and waving it in front of Chloe, who broke into a wide grin and opened the passenger door.

"Hop in, stranger," she said, and Rachel threw her beg into the truck, skipped around to the other side and climbed in.

"Nice wheels," she said. "You've been busy."

"Not really," Chloe said, looking around. "Just some junk I found. Truck doesn't go. Yet."

"I like it," she said, snuggling up on the seat. "A pirate flag, a cool blue light _and_ the all-seeing eye? Sorted."

"Figured it can't hurt to have the Illuminati on our side for whenever the shit goes down."

"Agreed. Always thinking ahead. One of the things I like about you. Just as long as they don't have Bob Page at the helm," said Rachel, and Chloe spun in her seat.

"You too?"

"What do you mean?"

"Two words. Deus Ex."

"Wasn't sure you'd get that one," said Rachel, grinning wildly, "so fifty points on your tally! Yeah, I loved that game. Haven't played it in, like, ages, but I absolutely adored it. I loved the look of it. I mean, okay, it came out two-thousand, and it hasn't aged particularly well, but the art style is so… dark, it's gorgeous. It still plays well, and you can get mods to improve the graphics now, so…"

"Me too," said Chloe. "I didn't get to play it when it came out, I was like, six? But I managed to get a copy about three years ago. I love the conspiracy theory stuff – the Illuminati, Majestic-twelve. And Denton was so cool."

"Yeah. Ah, happy times," said Rachel, sliding back in the seat, but then she spotted the Elvis bobblehead. "Shit, look at the little dude!" she crowed, rocking the truck to make his head waddle. "Chloe, this is incredible," she said, sliding to face her friend. "I can't believe you found us an escape vehicle already."

"Escape?"

"Yeah, you remember, right?"

"Oh, you mean for us to run away?" said Chloe, remembering their conversation. "Yeah. I guess I wasn't really thinking about it that way."

"Are you getting cold feet?" said Rachel, putting her arm on Chloe's. "I thought you were revving up to bye-bye Arcadia last night."

"I still am," said Chloe, then adding, "I guess."

"You guess?" At the disappointment in Rachel's voice, Chloe twisted around to face Rachel.

"Look, it's not so easy, Rache," she said. "I want to, I've had enough of Arcadia to last a lifetime. But we need to look at reality. The truck doesn't start, so we can't go anywhere in it. We have no money."

"We can figure it all out, Chloe," said Rachel. "I've no doubt about that. We make a great team, you and I. We can overcome any obstacle. Besides, there's no massive rush, is there?"

"True. And no Blackhell to get in my way now. To freedom and beyond!"

"Holy shit, yeah," said Rachel. "Look, that meeting, I'm so sorry about Wells. I can't believe ha actually suspended you."

"Really? You can't believe it?" said Chloe, incredulously. "I'd say it's one of the most believable things that's ever happened to anyone in the history of ever."

"What do you mean?"

"Wells. He's a complete dick-sucking asshole. And a fucking drunkard to boot. Did you see how his hands were shaking towards the end of the meeting? That was him going into withdrawal."

"No way!"

"I'm telling you the truth, Rachel." Chloe was getting worked up. "He's concerned, not with students passing their grades, but with the money he can raise. I'm betting he's managing to siphon off a good deal of it, too. He'll need it, to pay for his drinking habit, and the lawyer, if he ever gets caught. I mean, just look at his behaviour this morning. See how he was about to expel me, until you took the rap – thanks for that, by the way – and once he thought it was you, he didn't even suspend you? Does that not strike you as odd?"

"But…"

"And Icky Vicky. She accused me of cheating. The fact that she was the one plagiarising _my_ homework didn't get recognised. Capiche?"

Rachel looked at Chloe thoughtfully for a long time. "You know, you make a very good point," she said. "I didn't notice that today."

"I notice shit."

"I know."

"I'm more pissed about the play, to be honest."

"How? You're not even interested in it."

"Well no, I wasn't yesterday, until I found out you were in it. I was actually going to come along tonight to watch you strut your stuff on the boards. And now they've chucked you out of it, letting Icky Vicky jack your role? That's some legit bullshit right there, man."

"Yeah, but remember that life is pretty stupid, with lots of hubbub to keep you busy, but really not amounting to much."

"Wait, I know this one," said Chloe, clicking her fingers excitedly. "Max and I watched it once… ah shit, what was it? Steve Martin said it, in that film he did…"

"Close," said Rachel, grinning.

"Fuck, it was that love story set in LA, wasn't it?"

"Chloe, seriously? Think about what you just said," said Rachel, breaking out into a laugh.

"A story set in LA, you mean?" Chloe slapped her forehead. "LA Story. Of course!"

"Yeah. Hey… life is pretty stupid, with lots of hubbub to keep you busy, but really not amounting to much." Rachel paused, then adopted a more dramatic voice. "Life is tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

"Yeah, totally," said Chloe. "So, how many points for that one?"

"Ten."

" _Ten?_ That was an obscure one, that's got to be worth at least thirty point."

"And yet you needed clues to get it, thus lowering your reward," smiled Rachel. "At least Wells has no idea what _really_ went down with us last night," she continued. "Shit got pretty wild, didn't it?"

"Us?" said Chloe. "Last time I checked, you were the one who went totally Puff the Manic Dragon on that tree last night. What were you thinking?"

"I was angry," said Rachel, by way of explanation. "I didn't actually expect the whole stupid park to go 'whoosh', did I?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"… and come on, 'accomplice' sounds way cooler than 'accessory after the fact', doesn't it?"

"I guess so. Is that the official Arcadia Bay DA-Daughter's opinion?"

"Yes, it is."

"Then accomplice it is." Chloe stopped smiling. "Actually, I'd be way happier going to jail than having to live at home with Dick-tator David. He only fucking announced his plans to move in this morning."

"Shit, no?"

"Yep. He also told me to turn out my pockets in the school parking lot. He wanted to fucking search me!"

" _No way!_ " Rachel was appalled.

"Way."

"But he can't do that! That's against the Geneva Convention or some shit! What did your mom say? Was she there?"

"She was there. And complicit. Apparently it's all something to do with the new cruelty."

"I guess, but then…" Rachel stopped. "Wait, isn't that a quote from LA Story too?" Chloe smiled.

"Well spotted," she said. "That's worth thirty points."

"Well, thanks, missy," said Rachel, putting on a fake Southern accent. "But seriously, he actually wanted to search you?"

"Yup."

"What for?"

"Drugs, I think. Or alcohol. Or he wanted to steal my change."

"Did you let him?"

"Fuck no!" spat Chloe. "I'm not letting that fucker anywhere near me!"

"Good on you!" said Rachel. "We respect our privacy, we fought to keep it over the years, so no-one should be able to take it away from us."

"Well said," said Chloe. "But as for him moving in… that's like my worst nightmare."

"I'm so sorry, Chloe," said Rachel. "That's awful. You know what you need?"

"I'm all ears," said Chloe.

"Therapy."

"Therapy?"

"Yeah. Go on, kick back and tell me what's bothering you."

"Um, ok," said Chloe, laying across the cab seat. After some hesitation, she lay her legs on top of Rachel's. "So, what now, doc?"

Rachel put her hands on Chloe's legs. It was… distracting. "Now, you tell me what's bothering you," she said. "You can tell me anything you want, strict doctor-patient confidentiality. Nothing you say will leave this truck."

"Ok, well, um," said Chloe, thinking. "I guess the first thing is that I've been booted from school and I'm not entirely sure what to do about it."

"Are we talking feelings of anger, disappointment? That sort of thing? Guilt, maybe, that you've disappointed your mother?"

"No, I mean how to deal with my feelings of intense joy."

"That's… unexpected," said Rachel. "Do you think you might be taking this a little too well?"

"You tell me, doc. I'd say I'm exceptionally well-adjusted."

"I'd bet my therapist's licence that nobody's ever called you that before."

"I wouldn't take that bet, doc," said Chloe.

"Do you think you _have_ disappointed your mother?"

"Fuck yeah," said Chloe. "I'm a constant disappointment to her." She paused. "Not really a good thing to say, is it?"

"Honesty is always the best policy," said Rachel. "How do you feel having told me that?"

"Actually a bit shitty," said Chloe. "I mean, I've never really thought about the consequences on her, you know? And yeah, I've given her kind of a hard time, well, I _have_ given her a hard time, but I've never really stopped to think about why."

"Well, we've time. Stop and think about it now," said Rachel. "Do you know why you act like you do towards her?"

"Well, she's chosen David over me…"

"… has she actually? Has she actually told you that?"

"Well, no, but…"

"… no buts about it. Joyce loves you, I can see that," said Rachel. "There's no way she's choosing anything or anyone over you, but maybe she's choosing herself alongside you? Have you considered that possibility?"

"Well…"

"… do you love your mother?"

"What sort of a question is that?"

"One I'd like you to answer," said Rachel. "So?"

"Of _course_ I do," said Chloe. "But I don't see…"

"Do you think she's entitled to be happy, or would you rather see her miserable for the rest of her life?"

"But…"

"Are you going to stay single for the rest of your life?"

"I…"

"Do you think she should?"

"Rachel, that's not fair!"

"Therapists are not meant to be fair, just challenging," said Rachel with a smirk. "Consider it."

"Well… okay, I guess, but that brings me on to my other point."

"Which is?"

"There's this dildo with a stupid moustache who's been dicking my mom and now he thinks he's moving in. How do I stop him?"

"Hmm. That is a hard one," conceded Rachel. "I'm not entirely sure there's really anything you can do."

"Remind me why I'm talking to you?"

"Just because you can't stop him doesn't mean you don't fight back. La resistance begins now," said Rachel, and Chloe grinned at the idea.

"Nice."

"First point of action, you're going to need a new nickname to mark your enemy. What do you have?"

"Well, I'd like to say stepfuck because he's a stupid fucking fuck, but I think I'll go with stepdouche."

"Poetic. Might I also suggest stepladder?"

"Stepladder?"

"Because he climbs on your mom every night."

"Rache!" said Chloe, pretending to hawk and spit. "That's totally gross!"

"And pretty soon they'll be 'stepping' down the aisle."

"What the fuck kind of therapist are you?"

"Sorry. It's called shock therapy. Highly controversial."

"I'll say. You've given me images now. Gah! That's something I'll never unsee. For fuck's sake, Rache!" Rachel simply chuckled.

"Anything else you want to talk about?"

"Yeah," said Chloe, but she hesitated. "Just one thing."

"Which is?"

"So, my new friend, who everyone thinks is perfect, did something batshit-fucking-insane last night. What do I do?"

"This perfect friend of yours," started Rachel, "who I'm assuming is also an exceptional beauty…"

"… goes without saying…"

"… sounds like she may have been inspired by someone new in her life. A friend, maybe, who is also a knockout in the looks department. Perhaps this friend of yours, who I reiterate must be a stunner, needed someone special in her life to teach her…"

"… how to steal wine from stupid yuppie types?"

"How not to give a fuck. Because maybe she was tired of having to give so many fucks all the time."

"That… makes sense." Chloe thought for a moment. "Hey, thanks Rachel. That was actually somewhat therapeutic." She sat back up in the seat.

"It's always a pleasure delving into the mind of Chloe Price. It's a little like a box of chocolates. You never know…"

"… what you're gonna get," finished Chloe, laughing. "Yeah, that's too fucking obvious, that one." She paused for a moment, then continued. "What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well," said Chloe, hesitating slightly. "Do you want a therapy session?"

"What's to tell? Life sucks," said Rachel, looking downcast.

"Sorry," said Chloe, but Rachel lay her head on Chloe's shoulder. She smelt fresh, and Chloe closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation.

"Nah. I'm just… ugh, I don't know, Chloe. Can we talk about something else?"

"Um, okay," said Chloe, racking her brains. "How about, you ever try picturing what Principal Sells does when he's not at school? I mean, like, does he just collapse into a drunken stupor, or does he lie in a bed covered in teddy bears and he's tying a little necktie around each one."

"Principal… Sells?" said Rachel.

"Fits," shrugged Chloe.

"You're… disturbed."

"Meh. Who gives a shit?"

"I'm pissed off about the play, Chloe," said Rachel, suddenly. "I mean, I've worked hard for that for weeks. And to see fucking little Chase-bitch take all the glory, fucking makes me…" She stopped. "Chloe?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you think, like, there's a point in life when you've been acting so much that you don't even have your own personality anymore? I mean, you're just whatever you think other people want you to be?"

"I think you have a personality," said Chloe. "A rather nice one, if I may say so."

"Thanks, but I wasn't talking about me," said Rachel. "You saw my dad in the meeting with Wells…"

"… Sells…"

"… sorry, Sells," said Rachel. "My dad doesn't really exist, does he? The whole thing is a performance. And now I'm starting to feel like everything in my life is bullshit." She paused, and Chloe decided not to speak. "But he's still my dad!" said Rachel, after a moment. "How can I make sure I don't end up like him?"

"Rachel, you couldn't be like him even if you wanted to, you're far too awesome for that. Plus, I won't let you."

"That actually makes me feel better, Chloe," said Rachel, looking at her watch. She suddenly sat up straight, nearly banging her head on the truck's roof. "Shit, it's play time. I'd better go clean out my dressing room." She smiled wryly. "Not exactly the role I thought I'd be playing tonight, but ah well. Meet me there later?"

"Sure."

"I was thinking we could do something later. Just you and me."

"Something criminal?"

"Criminally fun, yeah."

"Count me in. I'll meet you at Blackhell."

"I'll be there. Come find me," said Rachel, climbing out of the truck. Chloe noticed the bag she'd thrown in earlier.

"Wait, Rache, you forgot your bag," she called, but Rachel just shook her head.

"It's for you, Chloe," she called back. "Just a little survival kit for your new life on the road. Drive safe." She pointed a pair of finger guns at Chloe, then spun on her heels and walked out of the junkyard, swinging her hips suggestively as she did so. Chloe picked up the bag and climbed out of her truck, walking over to the metal shack she'd seen earlier. She moved a metal sheet by the entrance and walking in.

"Nice," she muttered. "Potential." She looked around. It was a very basic shack, four walls of breeze blocks with a corrugated roof over the top. It was around 4-5 paces wide, and there were a variety of chairs and a table placed roughshod around the shack. She nodded and spent a few minutes looking around, imagining a few decorations and adjustments that could make this a decent living space. After a few minutes, she opened the bag Rachel had given her to find a bunch of clothes. She pulled them out and looked through them, eyeing some of them up appreciatively. As she did so, her phone buzzed.

 _FRANK: [I'm here. Where are you?]_

 _CHLOE: [I'm currently naked, dude. Chill for a minute, I'll be with you then. Unless you want a show]_

 _FRANK: [What the fuck, Price?]_

 _CHLOE: [Calm down, dude. Don't get all hot and bothered. I'll be along in a minute]_

Chloe grinned and put the clothes back in the bag. Once outside, she made her way to the junkyard entrance, where she saw Frank's RV parked up. As she approached, the door opened and a woman in a white dress climbed out.

 _Wait a sec, that's… that's the woman Rachel's dad was with. What the fuck?_

The woman looked Chloe up and down, nodded and walked off. Chloe thought about going after her, but decided against it. Instead, she banged on the RV door.

"Frank!" she called. "It's Chloe!" When there was no answer, she tried again. "Frank! I don't know the password. Is it drugs?" As she banged, the door swung open to reveal Frank glowering at Chloe.

"Price!" he growled. "Get your butt in here!" Chloe entered the RV and closed the door behind her.


	24. The Deal

Chloe climbed into the RV and immediately wrinkled her nose. "Dude!" she said, coughing. "It smells like piss in here."

"Shut up, Miss Hygiene," said Frank, good-naturedly. He sat in the driver's seat of the RV, certainly looking a little worse for wear.

"Rough night?"

"Every night's a rough night these days," he growled, then nodded his head toward the back of the RV. "Notebook. In back. Go fetch."

"Fucking hell, Frank, what am I, your dog?" said Chloe, raising her eyebrows.

"Funny you should say that," he said. "Just go and get it, would you?" She stood there in silence, and he eventually sighed. "Please, Price?"

She nodded, but just she turned to go, she remembered something. "Frank, when I came in just now, there was a woman leaving. Who was… aaahhh!" Chloe stumbled against the door as Frank started driving off. "God, Frank, geez."

"Get my notebook, Price," he said, chuckling. "Then we'll talk."

 _Geez, I'm fetching things for Frank Bowers. How low can I go?_

Chloe made her way towards the back of the RV, stumbling more than once due to the way Frank was driving. "You do realise you can't drive, yeah?" she called, and Frank just growled at her. She shook her head, stumbled once more against the side of the RV and headed to the back. At the back was a door leading to, she guessed, the bedroom area. She opened it and stepped backward in surprise as something launched itself towards her as the door opened.

"Whoa! Hey there…" she exclaimed and looked down to see a small puppy pulling at her leg and growling faintly. She smiled and bent down to pet him. "Hey there, little guy," she murmured, stroking the back of his head as he growled, a little more friendly this time.

"Ah shit," said Frank, looking back and seeing the puppy. "Pompidou!" he called. "Get up here!" The puppy bounded up to the front of the RV and started tippy-tapping around Frank. "Ya vicious, you know that?" he said, reaching down with his right hand and petting the puppy. "You're a killer, ain't ya!"

"Pompidou?" Chloe smiled and took the notebook off Frank's bed, flicking through it quickly. "Shit," she muttered, seeing her name in the notebook, "I'm in the red." She read down a little further.

 _Shit, I'm in for $175, and Stella?_

 _Stella? Isn't she always studying? Might be why she needs the odd pick-me-up._

 _Damn, she's a dark horse. Still, Drew's in for over a grand. Suddenly, I don't feel so bad._

As she finished reading, her phone buzzed and she unlocked it. It was Justin.

 _JUSTIN: [Dude, I heard you got suspended. Is that for real?]_

 _CHLOE: [Yeah]_

 _JUSTIN: [Nasty, man. Totally nasty]_

 _CHLOE: [Meh. Just means I've got some more time on my hands. You?]_

 _JUSTIN: [Got busted for smelling like weed]_

 _CHLOE: [Smoking?]_

 _JUSTIN: [Nah man, just smelling like weed. Shit, they ain't gonna catch me doing the deed, yeah?]_

 _CHLOE: [What a shocker]_

 _JUSTIN: [Yeah, I know, right? I thought those mints would have done the trick]_

 _CHLOE: [This might come as a bit of a shock Justin, but the amount you smoke I don't think anything would have done the trick, dude. Seriously, you_ do _smell like weed]_

 _JUSTIN: [Ah yeah, well, my mom's making me go to her book group]_

 _CHLOE: [Oh god. I'm… so sorry]_

 _JUSTIN: [No you're not]_

 _CHLOE: [I am, I really am, dude]_

 _JUSTIN: [Stop laughing. I know you're laughing at me. I can hear it]_

 _CHLOE: [Not laughing]_

 _JUSTIN: [Liar]_

 _JUSTIN: [sigh. Go on then. Let it out]_

 _CHLOE: [Hahahahahahahahahahahaha breathes hahahahahahahahahahahaha]_

 _JUSTIN: [See? I told you]_

 _CHLOE: [Yeah, I'm sorry dude, like, hahahahahaha, a book group? I mean, you can't even read]_

 _JUSTIN: [I know, I told mom that]_

 _CHLOE: [And?]_

 _JUSTIN: [Yeah she didn't believe me]_

 _CHLOE: [So?]_

 _JUSTIN: [What?]_

 _CHLOE: [Which book?]_

 _JUSTIN: [The Catcher in the Rye]_

 _CHLOE: [I've heard that somewhere]_

 _JUSTIN: [By some geezer called Salinger]_

 _CHLOE: [So how much have you read?]_

 _JUSTIN: [The back cover. It's about a boy named Holden Caulfield]_

 _CHLOE: [Caulfield?]_

 _JUSTIN: [Yeah, why?]_

 _CHLOE: [A memory, that's all. Well, let me know how the book group goes]_

Chloe locked her phone, more than a little distracted by Justin's conversation.

 _Max._

 _Oh, Max again? Really?_

 _Come on, even you must have seen the connection there._

 _Well duh, of course. It would have been difficult to miss. Anyway, come on. You've a notebook to deliver. Focus, Chloe._

On her way back to Frank, notebook in hand, she noticed an email on Frank's computer as she passed. Unable to resist, she took a quick look.

 _From: ballcrusher348_

 _Subject: More fucking shit_

 _Sent: Saturday 9 May 2010 4:09AM_

 _Frank, I went back to the mill, shouldn't have. I'm fucking furious. Everything's burned. Total massacre. Can't stop thinking about it._

 _Dogs didn't make it, that's $10k gone right there, just like that. Plus the stud fees we had coming. RF and that whole crew are gonna be pissed. How am I supposed to come back from this with my fucking reputation intact?_

 _I can't think straight on this shit right now. I just want to find who started the fire and burn his fucking face off._

 _D_

 _Shit, that's the fire that Rachel… Is this that Damon that Frank keeps talking about? I need, and Rachel needs to steer well clear of him, I think. I mean, Frank's not exactly the safest tool in the box, but this guy makes him look like a pet kitten._

 _Got that right, Chloe._

 _Yeah._

Her phone buzzed again. This time it was Eliot.

 _ELIOT: [Can't believe he suspended you]_

 _CHLOE: [Yeah, I know. Fucking prick]_

 _ELIOT: [If you need someone to talk to, I'm here]_

 _ELIOT: [Or if you want a hug…]_

 _CHLOE: [Thanks, but I think I'm good for now]_

 _ELIOT: [Haha]_

 _ELIOT: [Seriously, I'm here for u, Chloe. You know that, right?]_

 _CHLOE: [Cool, thanks dude]_

 _ELIOT: [Where are you? I can come across if you want to talk]_

 _CHLOE: [It's cool, dude. I'm ok]_

 _ELIOT: [Good, I'm glad to hear that. I'll see you soon]_

The front of the RV was a mess. Frank had set up a little table next to the driving seat; it was littered with bits of paper, puppy slobber and other things that Chloe really didn't want to think about. Pompidou was still prancing about at the front, Frank occasionally reaching down to pet him, usually met with a small growl of appreciation from the puppy.

"Here you go, dude," she said, holding up the notebook. Frank didn't look away from the road, merely held up his hand and motioned her to sit down in the other chair. As she sat, however, the van hit a bump in the road and she half-fell, half-flopped into the chair. On the floor, Pompidou looked up at her and smiled, slobber dripping out of his wide mouth as he did so. She grinned at him and held her hand out, petting him when he waddled over to her. He even allowed her a quick tickle when he rolled over, his face set in a giant laugh as he did so. "Pompidou, eh?" she said, as she tickled him. "That's a badass name for a dog."

"It's French," said Frank, by way of reply.

"For what? 'Tough guy' or something?"

"Do I look like I speak fucking French?" said Frank, still pointedly not looking at her. She stopped tickling Pompidou for a moment and he whined until she started again.

"Okay," said Chloe, changing the subject, "so who was that woman?"

"Which woman?"

"The one I saw coming out of your RV just now. White dress."

"Oh yeah," said Frank, "I meant to introduce you. Her name is 'Mind Your Own Fucking Business.'"

"Aw c'mon, Frank. I'm just curious", said Chloe, pouting. "What's the big deal? Just tell me her name, that's all."

"Price, are you an idiot? I make money by being discreet. You know what that means?"

"Of course I do, lunkhead," said Chloe. "But it's not like you signed a confidentiality agreement with her. Beside, this is me you're talking to. Everyone hates me, and I hate everyone except you. Who am I gonna tell, really?" Frank actually cracked a smile at Chloe's comment, but it was gone as soon as it showed.

"Come on, Price," he growled. "I gotta protect my clients. Happy customers are the foundation of a good business. I'm sure you understand that."

"Of course I do, Frank. Your customers like you because you're laid-back. That's also why I like you. So you should keep building up that easy-going vibe, y'know, and help me out."

"I guess so. But why are you so hung up on this chick?"

"I'm… I'm not, really. Just hanging out with a friend. A friend I don't know much about. Tell me, Frank, seeing any girls lately?" Chloe smiled. "Look, what's the harm in knowing a name?"

"Well," said Frank, easing up slightly, "I guess you're not asking for life or death information here."

"Nope." Chloe nodded to the notebook. "I'm holding your drug-dealing account book, Frank. You obviously trust me already, so come on. Tell me."

"I don't know," said Frank, and Chloe knew she'd won.

"Frank, tell me and I'll get my mom to make you something special."

"Like what?"

"Um…"

"How about that firehouse chilli of hers?"

"Deal," said Chloe.

"Okay," he said, finally relenting. "That woman you saw. Her name is Sera."

"Sarah?"

"No, Sera. S-E-R-A. She showed up a couple of weeks back. Causing all kinds of trouble for all sorts of people."

"Oh? Like who?"

"It's a little out of your league, okay?"

"But what kind of trouble, exactly?" asked Chloe, sensing she'd already got everything she was going to get. She was right.

"Forget it, Chloe," he said, shaking his head. "I've already told you more than I should have."

"Okay, thanks Frank."

"You didn't hear it from me."

"Hear what?"

"Exactly, Price. Exactly." He turned back to the road for a couple of minutes and Chloe enjoyed tickling Pompidou. He really was a cute little puppy, adorable eyes, although she was under no illusions that he'd stay cute as he grew up. Not with a daddy like Frank. Finally, Frank turned back to Chloe.

"You hear the mill burned down?"

"I heard about the fire? Did it reach the mill? Shit."

"Yeah. My friend Damon runs the place. Well, ran the place. He lost a lot of money last night."

"Money from what?" asked Chloe, knowing she probably wouldn't like the answer. Damon's email about the dogs was playing on mind.

"He's always had a few things going on," said Frank, not going into details. "I help him out with some of them from time to time."

"Don't drown me in the details, Frank," said Chloe, wryly, but secretly glad.

"You really don't want to know, Chloe," he said in reply. "Let's just say that lately, he's been doing a few things that… well, I don't like, but I don't seem to have the same leverage with him as I once had." Frank shook his head. "Anyway, enough about him. You and I have shit to discuss," he said, and Chloe's heart sank.

"Look, you know I'm…"

"What?"

"Isn't this about the one-seventy-five?" As soon as she said it, Chloe realised she'd opened her mouth too soon.

"Oh yeah, you owe me that. Yeah, um, no, I… I don't give a shit about that, unless… wait, do you have it?"

"Yeah. I mean, give me a week or so. I'll get it."

"I wonder sometimes if I'll ever get tired of your crap," said Frank. "I mean, that money you stole at the mill should cover it, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Chloe, I was sitting like, ten feet away from you. I saw it. Well?"

"I… I don't have it."

"Spent it already?"

"Actually, I snuck it into my mother's purse."

"You… actually, that's not something I'd have expected from you," said Frank, genuinely surprised. "That's really quite noble."

"Yeah, don't have a cow, man," said Chloe. "Anyway, I'll get it to you. I'm not stealing it back off my mom."

"You're the least of my problems right now," said Frank, nodding at the notebook. "Open it. Last page." Chloe opened the notebook and flicked to the last page, the one she'd seen earlier.

"Got it," she said.

"Should be some entries for a kid named Drew. You know him?"

"Drew North? Yeah, we've met," said Chloe, remembering his altercation with Nathan the day before. "He's… holy shit, that's a lot a of money."

"Exactly. Drew runs oxy for Damon. Apparently the football players eat it like candy. Good market. Repeat business. Damon likes repeat customers."

"That's smart," said Chloe. "I guess. It pays well?"

"Problem is," said Frank, "Drew owes a grand and he's not answering my calls. You know what's going on with him?"

"He's a douchebag?"

"Nah, he's not stupid. Actually, kid's smart. This is the first time he's done this. And, unless we can get this sorted, it'll be the last, too." He paused, thinking. "Anyway, here's the job. I'm taking you to Blackwell. Go to his room. I'm pretty sure he's got the money, he's just not handing it over. Find it and I'll meet you to pick it up. You think you can handle it?" Chloe closed the notebook and put it back on the dashboard, absent-mindedly stroking Pompidou, who was loving the attention.

"What's in it for me?"

"I thought you were smart, Price," said Frank. "You still owe me, remember?"

"So if I do this, we're clear?"

"That, and something extra. You can have ten percent of the cash."

"Ten?"

"That's what I said."

"Twenty?"

"Price?"

"Fifteen?"

"Ten. Don't make me regret it."

"Okay, okay," said Chloe. "Girl's gotta try, ain't she?"

"It's a good thing I like you," he growled, good-naturedly. "What's the matter," he continued, seeing the frown on her face.

"It might be a little tough. I got suspended this morning, I'm not supposed to be on campus."

"It's the weekend," said Frank. "You'll be fine. I'm definitely not welcome there."

"Okay," she said, after a moment's thought. "You've got yourself a deal."

"Excellent," he said, stomping on the accelerator and heading off towards Blackwell.


	25. Back to Blackhell

Chloe looked up at Blackwell as Frank dropped her off, driving off almost immediately.

 _Didn't think I'd be back here so soon._

 _You didn't really think it would let you go, did you? It's Blackwell. Draws you in. Remember? You can check out any time you like…_

 _… but you can never leave. Yeah. Nice reference. Seems to fit here._

She sighed and looked up. The sun was bright in the sky, heading off to pastures new. Frank hadn't dropped her at the main entrance, rather the side entrance near the dormitories; she was secretly grateful for this, it meant she'd more chance of getting in unseen by the enemy.

 _Fucking Prescott Dormitories. He can go fuck himself. And his son._

Even though she lived at home, she'd still spent time at the dorms, especially out in the courtyard. It had been a source of conflict between her and her mother. Her mother was firmly set on living at home, whereas Chloe desperately wanted to live on campus. She'd argued long and hard that she was missing out on the social aspects, making friends, learning to be independent, but Joyce had nixed each argument, pointing out that she wasn't very social, she didn't have any friends and was perfectly independent from home. Plus there was the financial argument, and Chloe knew, deep down, she had no chance of winning that one. Still, she spent time at the dorms, sitting outside, contemplating shit. It was a very friendly part of campus, overlooked by a weird totem that was known as the 'Tobanga'. The courtyard was almost empty as Chloe walked through, apart from…

"Hey Barb!" The voice came from her right, and she turned her head to see Steph, sitting on one of the benches. She had a book in her hands but was looking up at Chloe and smiling.

"Hey Steph, how's it going?" said Chloe, walking over to her, jumping on the bench and sitting down. She snatched the book from Steph's grasp. "Reading anything cool? Porn, maybe? Always like a bit of pornographic literature."

"Yeah, like, out here?" said Steph, raising an eyebrow.

"Meh, it was a thought," said Chloe. "Lady Chatterly's Lover. Now there's some steamy shit right there. Or you could just read Playboy."

"I think that would be a bit obvious?" said Steph, still smiling.

"Meh, the interviews are great," said Chloe. "Did you know that one of the last interviews that John Lennon gave was to Playboy?"

"Now that I did not know," said Steph. "But anyway, I'm not reading porn. However much you want me to. Although… I wonder why you want me to? Is there something you want to talk to me about, Chloe?" she continued, smirking, but Chloe simply shook her head.

"Nah, I was just messin' with you," she said. "Anyway, you surprised to see me out on parole?"

"I told you Wells was out to get you," said Steph, dryly. "That text was a rare courtesy, by the way. I don't normally get involved in the soap opera of other people's lives."

"Funny, coming from a GM," said Chloe.

"How so?"

"Well, isn't your job to shepherd and manipulate people's lives, putting obstacles in their way?"

"Yeah, but that's just a game."

"So's life, baby," said Chloe, spreading her arms. "It's all about how you play it. Anyway, the trick's on you," she continued, jumping up and spinning around, holding her arms out to her sides. "I am the ultimate lost cause." She grinned and sat back down.

"Skipping with Rachel Amber does have its merits, actually," said Steph.

"Well, yeah," agreed Chloe. "There is that. She is quite easy on the eye."

"Many people have noticed that, too," said Steph. "But here's the real question: was it worth it?"

"Dunno. I mean, yesterday was a fucking awesome day, but in the light of sobriety, I actually feel a bit shit at getting suspended. Quite surprised at that, if I'm honest," said Chloe, looking down and shuffling her feet a little. "Never really felt a great deal of guilt before. Not sure I like it."

"Chloe…"

"Yeah, I know it's my own fault. At least I didn't get expelled," said Chloe. "And that's all thanks to Rachel."

"What do you mean?"

"She…" Chloe realised she was talking too much and clamped up. "It doesn't matter," she said. "But I'm here now, anyway."

"Why? What could possibly bring the great Chloe Price back to Blackwell?"

"Figured I'd see the Tempest." Chloe grinned. "See? That shut you up."

"For real?" said Steph in surprise. "You? Shakespeare?"

"Shit, why not?"

"Didn't really think it was your bag, was it?" said Steph.

"Yeah well, kinda hoping it's a shitshow," said Chloe, laughing. "I'll have a great time with the mockage."

"What the hell? I'm the stage manager!" said Steph, and Chloe closed her mouth.

"Oh yeah, um, shit, I mean, I think I already knew that," she said, backpedalling. "Well, I'm hoping that at the very least Icky Vicky fucks up."

"Victoria Chase? She's not in it," said Steph, frowning. "She's Rachel's… shit, are you saying…"

"Shit, I shouldn't have said anything," said Chloe, quickly. "Forget I said anything."

"Victoria's… oh no," said Steph. "That last rehearsal with the understudies… oh god. Please tell me…"

"No, no, no," said Chloe. "I've said too much."

"No, please," said Steph, looking really worried. "Victoria hasn't even learned the words. She'll try to blag each scene, and… oh god… that rehearsal where she thought she was the bee's knees. She tried to hog every scene. It was… and she and Hayden really don't… oh god, this isn't going to be good at all…"

"Don't what?"

"Forget I said it," said Steph, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter. Actually, you really see a different side to Hayden in this, you know. He can be so annoying, but when he puts that crown on? He's actually very princely. And he actually thinks about what he's saying."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and also with Nathan Prescott. He plays Caliban, and there's so much depth there."

"Nathan? Depth?" said Chloe, sniggering. "Yeah, right. Well, good luck with all of that. Maybe I'll see you later." She began walking away, but Steph called her back.

"Chloe?" she called, and Chloe turned and walked back to her. "I was wondering," she started, but her demeanour had switched from confident Steph to hesitating Steph.

"Go on," said Chloe, intrigued.

"I… kinda wanted to ask you something."

"Shoot. I'm an open book," said Chloe.

"No, I mean, not about you," said Steph, tripping over her words. Chloe frowned, it was unlike Steph. "Oh, I didn't mean… oh, I'm getting this terribly wrong, I don't…"

"Just ask me already," said Chloe.

"Rachel Amber."

"Yes?"

"Are you two… together?" Steph blurted.

Chloe was taken aback. "Us. Together?"

"Yeah."

"Um, like how is that any of your business?" she asked, and Steph looked down at her feet. Chloe immediately regretted her harsh tone. "I'm sorry Steph, I didn't mean to disrespect… look, why don't you just… ask me what you were going to ask me? You like Rachel, right?"

"I was… look, I was planning to… you know, with Rachel, but… if you're with her…"

"You think we're… together?"

Steph took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "It looks to me like you've got a thing for her," she said, "and it looks like she's got a thing for you, you know, and… I wouldn't want to get in the way."

Chloe smiled. "Steph, don't worry about it," she said. "Honestly, I don't know what's happening. It's all very… new."

"I… I can imagine," said Steph, nodding her head. "Look, I've been… you know, if you want to, you can talk to me, 'kay?"

"Thanks Steph."

"Come backstage later on. It'd be nice to see you."

"Will do. Later!" Chloe headed over to the dormitory door, but it was locked. "Shit," she muttered. "Who locks the fucking door during the daytime? I mean, really?" She looked around in frustration.

 _Samuel has keys. In fact, he has them right next to him._

 _Good spot._

She looked over at the groundskeeper. He'd placed the keys on the floor nearby while he was working on the sprinklers.

 _If only I could get those keys. But he'd see me. Unless…_

 _C'mon Chloe, really? Work the problem, remember?_

 _You again?_

 _I'm always here. I know you can do this. You're one of the most resourceful people I know._

Close to Samuel, Evan was trying to photograph a bird. Unfortunately for him, the bird wasn't playing ball, and he was chasing it around the bench. Chloe smiled to herself and walked over to Samuel.

 _You never know…_

"Hi Samuel," she said, brightly. The groundskeeper looked up at her as she approached and smiled gently.

"Hello Chloe Price," he said. His voice was always soft, slow and deliberate. A lot of the students shunned him, or made fun of his slow and deliberate nature, but Chloe had always made time for him. There was something about him. Every now and again he would offer wisdom or insight way beyond the norm.

"Keeping busy?" she asked.

"Always," he said. "Samuel didn't think he'd be seeing you at these hallowed halls so soon." Chloe chuckled.

"Yeah, me neither," she said.

"Samuel has the notion that it was neither the books nor bricks of Blackwell that tempted Chloe Price back," he said.

"Um… what?" said Chloe, furrowing her brow.

"You're here for someone. A special someone, yes?"

 _Not much gets past Samuel. Maybe that's why a lot of people don't like him._

"Well, I am looking for Drew North," she said, carefully, but Samuel shook his head.

"Many people look at Drew and see only the athlete," he said, lowering his head as he talked and worked. "However, Samuel sees much more than that in Drew."

"Really?"

"Samuel sees a great heart in him. Much capacity for love and normally no room for fear. Although recently, Samuel has seen fear in him. Much fear. Samuel is a little worried for Drew."

"Funny," said Chloe. "When I look at him, I just see a bit of a bully."

"Maybe he is that, too," said Samuel. "Nobody is just one thing." He smiled. "But you are looking for someone else, yes?"

"Well, yes," admitted Chloe. "But I don't think Rachel is here yet."

"Samuel knows Rachel Amber," he said, looking back up at Chloe. "Samuel sees a dragon made of diamonds."

"Samuel, that's… actually quite poetic," said Chloe. "Do you think this stuff up all the time?"

Samuel smiled. "Samuel says what he feels," he said. "No more than that, and no less. Samuel sees an angry girl in front of him, but he is unsure whether she is angry because she likes to be angry, she likes the way it feels to be angry, she likes other people seeing her as angry, or merely because it's a desperate defence against experiencing true intimacy with others."

"I… shit," said Chloe. "Look, you know Eliot, right?"

"Samuel knows Eliot Hampden. But he doesn't know much. Samuel sees only what Eliot wants him to see. Eliot Hampden is a little of an enigma to Samuel."

"Ooookay," said Chloe.

"Usually, Samuel sees both what people project to others and what people want to keep hidden. With Eliot, it is different. He keeps hidden what he wants to keep hidden. Samuel finds it… disturbing."

"What about me?" said Chloe, suddenly, and without thinking about what she was saying.

"What about you, Chloe Price?"

"What do you see in me?"

"Samuel sees a girl, strong and fierce, who wears the mask of a girl who does what she wants and doesn't care what others think."

"I don't care."

"Of course you do," said Samuel. "However, Samuel sees underneath the mask. Samuel sees a girl who wants to keep hidden that she is lonely and afraid."

"I'm… that's not true!"

"Chloe Price, remember that it's okay not to be okay," he said, and Chloe found her lower lip starting to quiver. "Asking for help will often get you the help you crave." He looked back up at her. "You must excuse Samuel now. He needs to finish this."

"Um, thanks Samuel," said Chloe. The conversation hadn't gone the way she'd thought it would, and she hadn't yet found the opportunity to liberate the keys.

"It is always a pleasure to talk to you, Chloe Price," he said, getting up off his knees. "You always have time for Samuel. You are a good person." He walked off into his small room at the end of the dormitories.

 _Now's my chance!_

Chloe reached out for the keys, but noticed Evan looking over at her. She pursed her lips in frustration, straightened up and walked over to him.

 _Dammit._

 _Don't give up, Chloe. You'll be fine. Remember what Samuel just said?_

 _He's weird._

 _He's right, and you know he's right. And I know he's right. You are lonely and afraid._

 _Shut up!_

 _No. He also said it's okay not to be okay. One of the finest pieces of advice you'll ever receive. He also said you'll receive help if you ask for it. You've got people wanting to give you that help, but you won't allow them anywhere near you._

 _Oh yeah? Who?_

 _You really have to ask? Your mother, for one. David is another._

 _Fuck you!_

 _Such eloquence. However you try to avoid it, David cares about you._

 _No, he just cares about getting in mom's pants. Just… ew._

 _I think he'll surprise you one day._

 _Yeah, he'll fuck off back to wherever he came from._

"What you looking at?" she said as she reached Evan.

"Um. You," said Evan. "Will you stay quiet, please? I'm trying to photograph this bird."

"Really?" said Chloe, slightly insolently. "I thought you were trying to propose to it." Evan just looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"What are you doing here, Chloe?" he said. "Aren't you supposed to be at home, weighing up the consequences of your questionable decisions?"

"Dude, why do you even care about my 'questionable decisions'?" said Chloe.

"It offends me when intelligence is wasted," said Evan, and Chloe stopped, taken aback.

"Did you just… call me intelligent? Was that a compliment?"

"You may take it howsoever you please," said Evan. "Now, if you please…"

"You look, really silly at the moment, you know," said Chloe. "And you can still see that bird from right here where I'm standing."

"Whilst I appreciate your concern, Chloe, I want to get this shot exactly right," he said. "Anyway, this bird doesn't seem in the mood to be photographed at this particular time. It is being… difficult."

"Oh, I don't know," said Chloe. "I saw you chasing it around earlier, but it seems to be posing now."

"This is true," said Evan, "but I don't want it there. I want it, you know, over there somewhere," he said, flapping his arm away from the path.

"Okay," said Chloe, and she ran at the bird, flapping her arms. It took flight and despite, Evan's calls, she continued to herd it around. Every time it landed on the lawn or the path, she ran at it again. Eventually, the bird got the message and flew off, landing on top of the Tobanga. "There you go," she said, a little breathlessly. "How's that?" she said, looking triumphant. Evan pursed his lips thoughtfully, then smiled at her.

"Perfect, thank you," said Evan, then frowned. "You know you really shouldn't be on campus, Chloe," he said. "You should leave before you get in more trouble."

"I will be, soon," she said. "Anyway, enjoy your photo. Let me know how it turns out." She walked away. Samuel was still in his room and Evan was now looking in the other direction, so she quickly swiped his keys and unlocked the dormitory door, putting the keys back before Samuel returned to his place by the sprinklers. However, as she returned to the doors, they opened and Skip, the security guard walked out. He stopped when he saw Chloe.

"Chloe?" he said. Chloe laughed nervously.

"Oh, hi Skip," she said. "How's it going?"

"What are you doing here?" he said. "You were suspended, you shouldn't be on campus, Chloe."

"Yeah, I know," she said, "but I'm on a secret drug-related mission, Skip, under the authority of the Arcadia Bay District Attorney's office." Skip looked really impressed.

"Really? Wow!"

Chloe laughed. "No dude, I'm… I'm just visiting a friend, that's all."

Skip sighed. "I really can't let you in, Chloe. You're not cleared for access to the campus."

"Dude, I'm going inside. You'll just have to let this one slide."

"I don't think I can," he said, looking uncomfortable at having to do this. "I'm going to have to ask you to state your official business, or else vacate the campus."

"State my official business? Women's business, Skip, yeah? As in, well, I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. Glad you asked now?"

"What? No!" he said, holding his hands up. "I'm sorry, it's my job to ask, Chloe."

"You know, that's a creepy job, then. Which kind of makes you a creeper, yeah?"

"Don't say that, Chloe," he said. "Have you any idea what Wells would do to me if I didn't… you know, patrol?"

"You know Wells doesn't respect you, right? He's just a drunk, and you're a rent-a-cop who needs a haircut." Chloe felt really guilty at saying these things to a guy who was basically just doing his job and was also her friend, but she closed her eyes and pushed forward with it, knowing there was no other way.

"Chloe? I thought we were friends," he said, and his voice betrayed his hurt. "Where is this coming from? Why are you saying these things to me?"

"I thought we were friends, too," said Chloe, her guilt rising despite her attempts to suppress it. "But when the man comes down on you, you come down on me, isn't that right?"

"Look, I'm really sorry, too, Chloe," he said. "I'm just, so confused."

 _Time to finish this. I need to get in._

"You're sorry?" she said. "Sorry? You just looked at my tits! You did! You stared straight at them." To his credit, Skip immediately looked up and his face turned red.

"Shit!" he said, and Chloe could see tears in his eyes. "Chloe, I'm really sorry," he said, and Chloe was overcome by a huge wave of guilt.

"Look, can you just…" she said, but stopped when his radio buzzed.

"Matthews," said Wells' voice over the radio.

"I'm here," he replied.

"There's reports of an unknown vehicle in the parking lot," said the principal, and Skip looked relieved.

"On it," he said, clicking the radio off. "Thank god," he muttered. "Just… do what you have to do, okay? I won't tell anyone. Not a soul," he finished, as he walked away.

"Thanks Skip," muttered Chloe, as she headed into the dormitories, but she couldn't help but feel that their friendship with the security guard would never be quite the same again.


	26. The Prescott Dormitories

The door opened into a T-shaped corridor with rooms on either side. As expected, posters adorned the walls of the corridor, both information and notice posters, but also sports, movie and game posters.

 _Never been in the boys' dorm before._

It was kind of exciting, both being in the boys' area, but also because of the nature of the undercover job she was currently engaged in. She headed around the corner and quickly found Drew's room, number 110. Taking a deep breath, she knocked lightly on the door.

 _If he's there, you'll need a story. You know that, right?_

 _Yeah, but what can I say? I mean, I can't just say…_

As she'd hoped, he wasn't home, and Chloe breathed a quick sigh of relief. She pushed the door open, slipped inside and closed the door behind her, taking a look around Drew's room as she did so. She was actually surprised. She'd expected his room to be a total mess, a chaotic jumble of clothes, sports equipment strewn all over the floor, but it was actually quite tidy. It was also obvious that Mikey spent a lot of time in the room as well – there were small miniature figures on the floor near a sleeping bag.

 _Is he allowed to have Mikey sleeping here?_

 _No idea. But it would probably cramp his style when it came to the action._

 _Really?_

 _Well, it's something to consider, isn't it?_

 _I worry about you sometimes._

Drew's laptop was on and open to an email from the University of Oregon, offering him a full sports scholarship, in light of his 'incredible achievements as a high school football player and student.'

 _Funny. It says nothing about his achievements in bullying, intimidation and drug-dealing._

 _Why don't you lay off him? Yes, he bullied Nathan Prescott yesterday, but is that actually such a bad thing?_

 _Yes. Yes it is._

 _Really?_

 _Yes! And what about his drug-dealing? He's selling what he calls 'happy pills' to half the football team. Frank wasn't lying, you know._

 _Yeah, there is that. But we don't know his motivations. Maybe he needs the cash. You saw the post-it note by his bed. His dad is homeless, just lost his job, yeah? He worked in the yard that Sean Prescott just closed down. He could be pushing the cash towards him._

 _That's possible. But… drug-dealing?_

 _Chloe, you know as well as I do that desperate times call for desperate measures. Look what you're doing for Frank, to rid yourself of the debt. You're a debt collector for a drug dealer._

 _Shut up._

 _Okay, I will. But there's no escaping what you've done to get yourself out of a debt._

 _But, surely there's a better way._

 _Quick cash doesn't just fall out of a tree. Just… don't judge him without the full facts, yeah?_

 _I guess so. Fuck, you're so wise and shit._

 _And you're so eloquent. I always knew you had a way with words._

She quickly looked around the rest of the room and found a locked trunk by his bed. Looking closer, she could see it was locked with a four-digit combination lock.

 _Fuck, I don't have time to mess about with this! It's pretty guaranteed that the money would be in there, right?_

 _I agree. If this were a video game, this would be the puzzle part of the adventure. You have to figure out the combination._

 _Fuck._

 _In the video game, there'd be clues around the room somewhere._

 _This isn't a game._

 _True, but Drew isn't the brightest student at Blackwell. He's probably used a combination that's easy for him to remember._

Hurrying now, she looked at some of the papers that were on Drew's desk. There were some comics drawn by Mikey, an acceptance letter from the University of Oregon, and athletic waiver form for both Drew and Mikey.

 _Lots of forms with lots of numbers. What about birthdays? Nice easy one to remember, yeah?_

She knelt down by the trunk and changed the combination to Drew's birthday which she'd seen on the athletic waiver form. April 3rd. 0403, but it didn't work.

 _That would have been too easy. Dammit._

 _Then again, a lot of his friends would know his birthday. A little too obvious, yeah?_

 _True. So what's really important to him?_

 _Sports?_

 _Possibly._

 _His father?_

 _Possibly._

 _What about Mikey? His birthday was on that form, wasn't it?_

 _It… was. You know, you may have a point. Not many would know his little brother's birthday._

Chloe quickly checked the form again (December 27th, 1227) and moved the combination keys around. She heard the click as the trunk unlocked and let out a silent cry of exultation.

 _Yeah! I am awesome!_

 _You're welcome, Chloe._

 _Oh yeah, thanks. Good idea._

Opening the trunk, she pulled out an old stuffed dog, smiling as she saw how old and loved it was.

 _Been with you a long time, huh?_

Underneath the bear was an envelope. Quickly, her heart beating, she picked it up and opened it to see a wad of cash inside.

 _Got it! Now to escape without being seen!_

 _Wait a moment, are you just going to steal it?_

 _Duh. It's money he owes to Frank._

 _But it's not yours._

 _I know that._

 _Stealing is wrong._

 _Oh, you're not going all noble and shit on me now, are you?_

 _So you're okay with just stealing his money, yeah?_

 _For the last time, it's not his money! It's Frank's!_

 _Still not right._

 _Shut up._

 _No._

 _I said shut up._

 _Look, when you agreed the deal with Frank, it was to recover the money. Not to steal it._

 _I told you…_

 _I know what you told me. But it's still wrong, however you spin it._

She shut the trunk and locked it, spinning the combination around. Quickly, she stood and headed over to the door, but as she put her hand on the knob, it began turning.

 _Shit! Shit! Busted!_

 _Ok, you're going to need your story now. Got one sorted?_

 _No! Of course not! What, you think I plan ahead?_

 _Well, you'd better come up with one very quickly. And I mean_ very _quickly._

The door opened and Chloe jumped back, expecting Drew. However, it wasn't Drew, it was…

"Elamon!" said Chloe, grinning as Mikey walked into the room, stopping suddenly as he saw Chloe there, his face turning from a smile to a worried frown.

"Chloe?" said Mikey, creasing his brow. "What are you doing here?"

"I was.. um…" faltered Chloe, desperately trying to think of something. "I wanted to…"

"… play some more tabletop with me?" said Mikey, his face breaking into a smile.

 _I give thanks to all ye gods that are out there or up there, listening to my shit._

 _Lucky._

 _I'll take it._

"Yeah. Yesterday was fun, Mikey," she said, her face betraying her relief. "I didn't know where you were, so I was going to ask Drew, but he's… not here."

"Yeah, he is," said Mikey, nodding outside the room. "He's just…" He stopped talking as his brother walked quickly into the room.

"Dude, we gotta go, yeah?" he said, then he noticed Chloe. "What are you doing here?"

"She was looking for me," said Mikey. "We played…"

"Your stupid game?" said Drew, but there was no hint of malice or sneering in his voice.

"Not stupid," said Mikey, "and yeah. She actually sliced my feet off! By accident, of course."

"She…" Drew looked down, then caught himself. "Ah yeah, in the game. Nice one," he said. "Anyway, time we weren't here. Get your stuff, Mikey, we gotta..."

"Drew? Relax, man. Slow down," called a voice from outside. "You're making me think you're nervous about something."

"Drew, what's going on?" said Mikey, but Drew shushed him, a finger to his lips.

"Shit. Fuck. Shit tit bum asshole!" Drew looked wildly around the room, at Mikey, and at Chloe. His face fell and he seemed to come to a decision. "Chloe, I… I need a favour from you."

"What is it?"

"I need you to look after Mikey. Stay here, keep him in here and, whatever you do, don't open the door. Okay?"

"Drew, what's going on?"

"No time for that," said the boy, his face breaking into a sweat. "Promise me, Chloe?"

"Drew?" The voice was closer now.

"Shit! Promise me, Chloe, please!" said Drew, in a hushed whisper.

"Okay, whatever," said Chloe, and Drew nodded in relief. He stepped outside and closed the door. Chloe turned to Mikey. "You know what's going on, dude?" Mikey shook his head, but then she heard Drew outside the room.

"Damon, you shouldn't be here," he said, his voice muffled. "School ain't the place for this."

 _Damon? As in Damon Merrick? Shit, shit, shit! Really not good._

 _This isn't going to end well, Chloe._

 _You think I don't know that. No wonder Drew wants me to look after Mikey._

 _Still think it's okay to steal the money._

 _Dude, really not the time for that right now._

"Really?" said the voice, who Chloe presumed to be Damon. "So where would be the place to collect my fucking money?"

 _Oh shit! Drew owes Frank, who owes… Shit!_

 _And there we have it. You're not collecting for Frank, you're collecting for Damon. Still think it's okay to steal now?_

 _Dude…_

 _I get that you know Frank, but you don't know Damon. Why would you be stealing for him?_

"I told you, I don't have it," insisted Drew, his voice rising in pitch. "Sales are down, man. Nobody wants to get high right now. But look," he continued, "it's spring season, we just started two practises a day, which will kill us. I'll be able to sell all the oxy you've got, we just need to…"

"Drew. You owe me a grand. Where the fuck is it?"

"I told you," said Drew," I don't have it right now. If you can wait until…"

"I heard about your dad's job, by the way," said Damon. "My condolences."

"Uh, thanks."

"I bet a grand would go a long way toward easing that, yeah? Tough times."

"Look, I…" said Drew, "that's none of…"

"Where is my fucking money, Drew? You know I don't like to be kept waiting. I also don't like to be lied to. I think you know that as well."

"I'm not lying to you, Damon," said Drew. "I don't know what you expect me to do, man! I can't just magic money out of thin air, I… ow!" There was an impact, Chloe guessed that Damon had resorted to baser tactics.

" _I want my fucking money, you little thief!_ "

"You don't have to hit me, man. I'm gonna… agh!" There was a pause, then Drew spoke up again, although the voice seemed closer to the ground. "Please, Damon, just give me a week, I'll… agh!"

"You're just gonna lie there? I thought you football jocks were supposed to be tough." Both Chloe and Mike could hear Damon hitting Drew over and over again. Mikey bolted for the door, but Chloe held him back. "Drew, I'm sorry about this. It's nothing personal, you know that, right? But I can't have people stealing from me. If I let you get away with this, what about next time? What if it gets out? I'm sorry, but I need to stamp this out right now. No-one steals from me. No-one. _You hear me? Nobody!_ " Mikey lunged for the door again, and it was all Chloe could do to hold him back.

"No," she whispered. "Drew said to stay here, right?"

"Let me go!" he said, but Chloe put her hand over his mouth.

"Mikey, stop, please!" she whispered, and his struggles slowed. "Why do you think Drew's out there? He's protecting you." They could hear Damon beating Drew regularly now, groans of pain followed more and more impacts. "It'll be okay, Mikey," whispered Chloe, although neither of them believed that. "It'll be okay."

"Damn, Drew, you are one tough kid," said Damon.

"Fuck you, Damon!" groaned Drew.

"Yeah? Nice sentiment." There was a final impact, a nasty cracking sound and Drew groaned, long and hard. "Good luck running on that knee now, my boy. Say bye-bye to football," he said. "Sorry Drew, but you need to learn." He paused and exhaled. "Well, I think I'm about done here. Get me my fucking money or next time I'll pay a visit to your little brother. See you soon, Drew." Damon's footsteps receded up the corridor and eventually all Chloe could hear was Drew's pitiful groans. She carefully opened the door and looked out. Damon had gone, but Drew was on the floor, whimpering in pain and clutching his knee. His face was swollen and blood was pouring from many lacerations.

"Drew!" called Mikey, rushing over to his brother.

"It's okay," whispered Drew. "I'm okay, bro." He groaned and looked up at Chloe. "Thank you, Chloe. Thank you for keeping him safe."

 _Fuck._

 _My thoughts exactly._

 _There's no way I can keep the money now._

 _Agreed. Do the right thing, Chloe._

Chloe pulled the envelope out of her pocket. "Here," she said, giving it to him. "I reckon you can use this more than that fucker. Uh, sorry, Mikey," she added.

"You took this from my trunk?" said Drew. "You were gonna…"

"Drew, I'm sorry," she said. "I… Frank asked me to, I… I'm sorry, man. But I couldn't… you know, go through with it. Not after seeing…"

"My dad, he…" Drew groaned again. "He needs this money way more than that asshole does. Look, forget about it, Chloe. For what you did for Mikey, I'd say we're even. Thanks."

"You sure?" said Chloe, and Drew nodded, grimacing in pain.

"You need to go to the hospital," said Mikey. "I'm calling an ambulance."

"Yeah, I'm sure," said Drew. "Look, don't say anything to anyone about this, 'kay?"

"Deal," said Chloe. "Um, what are you gonna do now?"

"Get to the hospital," said Drew. "Hopefully, I'll be able to play football again. Oh, you mean about Damon? Uh, well, one day at a time, I guess."

"I hear you, dude," said Chloe. On impulse, she put her arms around Mikey. "I'm sorry Mikey," she said. "Look after your brother, and text me when you get to the hospital, okay?"

"You didn't come to see me, after all?" said Mikey, tearing up. "You came to steal from us?"

"Uh, no, I'm sorry dude," said Chloe, "but I wasn't lying. I do want to play with you and Steph again soon, okay?"

"I guess," said Mikey, "but I'm not as forgiving as Drew. You came to steal from us. That's just plain wrong."

"Look Mikey," said Chloe, kneeling down to face the younger boy, "I'm in debt to them as well, and I had to do this, or they'd have done something similar to me as they did to your brother. Or… worse. I'm really sorry, I didn't want to do it, but I had to." She began to choke up. "But I couldn't go through with it, could I? I gave it back to you. That's gotta count for something, right?" She paused. "Please don't hate me, Mikey, not now we're " she said, and he looked at her, finally nodding his head.

"Okay," he said, "it does count for something. I'll give you another chance," he continued, seriously. "But don't… you know, let me down again. Okay?"

"Thanks man," said Chloe.

"Don't sweat it. I'll see you around, Chloe." He turned back to his brother and started dialling 911 on his phone. Chloe took that as her cue to leave.


	27. Backstage

The twilight cast long shadows over the campus as Chloe left the dormitories behind. Each tree, each wall, each bench cast their shadows; lengthy, wiry shapes moving on their own, seemingly detached from their physical counterparts. Chloe smiled to herself as she walked through the arches towards where she knew the stage was set up.

 _Thank fuck that's over and done with. At least now I can spend a little time with Rachel._

 _Risk and reward. Simple._

 _Yeah, I wish. That was nasty. The ambulance came quick._

 _That could have been you. Or Mikey. If you hadn't kept him safe…_

 _Don't. I can't stop thinking about it. I need to focus now, try and put it behind me._

The sun was making a last-ditch attempt to stay above the horizon as Chloe reached the stage. The stage had been set up outside, near the entrance to the pool. A large lighting gantry hung over the stage, but Chloe didn't really take any notice; simply walking around the back of the stage to the cast area. Hayden was already there, in costume. He was stood with his back to a tree, practising his lines. The director and drama teacher, Mr Keaton stood over to one side, seemingly trying not to panic as he consulted his script. He looked up as Chloe crossed and called her over.

"Hi, Mr Keaton," she said.

"Why, if it isn't the muse of the Blackwell drama department," he said, dryly. "Tell me, young lady, are you still sitting on the fence about true love?"

Chloe stopped walking and thought for a moment. "Mr Keaton, I don't know. I mean, you know, I'm only just older than Miranda is in the play. I've never… apart from a friend who… I mean, I guess true love can exist, if you want it to. I guess the whole point is to keep an open mind and leave yourself open to… whatever comes your way."

The director laughed. "Indeed," he said, "that is an art many of us attempt and precious few master." He consulted his script once more. "However, your propitious appearance may very well counteract the tragedy of Stephanie Gingrich's sudden recusal. An emergency, she says! Like anything could be more important than this!"

"Uh, yeah," said Chloe, fumbling for words.

"Stephanie was our lion of the lightboard. But, platitudinal though it may be, the show must sojourn forth."

"You mean the show must go on?" said Chloe. "I'm reasonably sure there's a song in there somewhere."

"Indeed yes," said the director, head bowed. "We must continue forthwith, and consider the non-appearance as pre-ordained, and a challenge to be overcome. Best find your seat, Kara. Showtime doth approach with great haste."

 _This dude is… fucked up._

 _He's just a thespian. They're a bit like that._

"Uh, yeah," said Chloe. "I'll… be around." She walked away without thinking and practically bumped into Hayden. "Oh hi, uh, Hayden."

"Address me as Ferdinand, good lady," he said without looking at her.

"Uh, alright. Um, hey, Ferdinand."

"'Sup Chloe," he said, then smacked his palm on his forehead. "I mean, 'sup, fair maiden."

"That's some great method acting right there, dude," said Chloe, and Hayden visibly brightened.

"Really? Thanks. Now, please, I need to consecrate," he said, and Chloe stifled a giggle. She saw Samantha, who saw Chloe and beckoned to her, putting her finger to her lips. Chloe joined her, and realised that Sam was listening to a conversation between Nathan Prescott and his father, Sean.

"Nathan," said his father. Sean Prescott had a deep voice, one that oozed authority, or arrogance. "Stop this nonsense at once!"

"I can't do it, Dad," wailed Nathan. "I'm sorry!"

"Keep your voice down!" snapped his father. "You don't want people to hear you. Now listen to me…"

"You don't understand!" said Nathan. "They all hate me! They're just gonna laugh at me, again! And the football team will just bully me more!"

"So, why do you suppose that is?" asked his father.

"I don't know," said Nathan.

"Wrong answer!" snapped his father. "My god, I wonder sometimes how you ever came out of my loins. It's because you show your weaknesses. Just like you're doing right now. And it's not good enough!"

"Dad…"

"When will you learn that this isn't about you and your small, insignificant problems?" he said. "This is about _our_ name, the Prescott legacy! _My_ name. You will _not_ embarrass me, Nathan. Do you understand?"

"But this costume…"

"You will go out there, and you will do your part to promote the Prescotts. Do you understand?"

"Dad…"

" _Do you understand_?"

"Yes," said Nathan, meekly, after a long pause. "I understand."

"Good," said his father. "Now, break a leg. I'll see you after the show. There are people I need to be seen with." He turned to walk away, but then turned back to his son. "I do hope I'm not going to be disappointed in you again." He left Nathan and walked away, right towards where Chloe and Samantha were standing. Chloe couldn't resist, although Samantha glared daggers at her.

"Great pep talk, Mr P," she said, letting her contempt show in her voice. "Everyone knows that bullying is absolutely the _perfect_ way to instil confidence in someone. Nice going."

"I have no idea who you are, young lady, and frankly I don't care," said Sean, without stopping, "but I'd appreciate it if you mind your own business. Don't stick that nose in where it doesn't belong. Am I understood?"

"I'd love to, Mr P," she said, actually laughing at him. "Don't you, like, have a private bunker or something filled with gold coins where you could have these conversations? I mean, it's kinda difficult not to hear you when you're projecting that great booming voice of yours where everyone can hear you. Get me?" Sean Prescott glowered at her, but walked away without further comment. Samantha walked over to Nathan, but he just glared at her.

"Nathan…" she started, but he brushed past her and walked into the dressing room. A few seconds later, his voice was heard inside.

" _Fuck!_ " he shouted.

"Nathan's dad is some next-level asshole, right?" said Chloe, walking over to where Samantha was standing, hands by her sides, looking towards the dressing room where Nathan had gone, and Samantha nodded.

"He doesn't understand Nathan at all," she said.

"Not like you do, you mean?" said Chloe, raising her eyebrows.

"It's not like that!" insisted Samantha. "He doesn't have any real friends, he's not allowed. 'Friends will just get in the way', his father says. I wish he'd leave Nathan alone. Preying on him like that really isn't going to help Nathan at all. He's fragile enough as it is."

"Yeah, I get that," said Chloe. "But do you really think you can build him up?"

"I don't know," conceded Samantha, "but I have to try. I mean, no-one else is doing anything."

"Nathan's dad sucks, yeah," said Chloe. "But you should be careful what you wish for when it comes to parents. I mean, sure, my dad and I had some shouting matches. But I still wish he was here, you know?"

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, Chloe," said Samantha, putting her hand to her mouth as she realised what she'd said. "I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."

"For what?" laughed Chloe. "You didn't kill my dad. Or did you…?" She laughed again as Samantha looked confused. "That was a joke, don't worry," she said, smirking, and Samantha exhaled in relief.

"I know," said Samantha. "Your dark sense of humour reminds me of Nathan's. Actually, you and he are really quite similar." Chloe frowned.

"Uh, what does that mean?" said Chloe, not sure where this was going, and not liking what she was hearing. "We're nothing alike, him and me. Nothing!"

"I'm serious, Chloe," said Samantha, pressing on. "Both of you are artistic and surprisingly sensitive. You've both been through a lot, and a lot of people unfairly judge you for it. Nathan's hurt right now and he needs help. But he won't ask for it, and whenever I try to help him, it always seems to make things worse."

"I still don't like being compared to him, Sam," said Chloe. "I mean, okay, I get that you make a point, but there's a lot about Nathan that is nothing like me. Especially some of that dark shit he's into. He… scares me a little, Sam."

"If you were Nathan right now, what would you want me to do?" asked Samantha, seriously, and Chloe pondered the question for a minute before answering.

"That's a difficult one," said Chloe. "I mean, a lot of people push others away when they hurt. They say they want to be alone, but what they really want is someone to chase after them, so they know that they are wanted or needed."

"So I should keep on at Nathan?" said Samantha, but Chloe shook her head.

"I don't know. See, others really do want to be alone, and people that pester them and keep asking them if they're okay, or try to cheer them up is actually resented. The trick is knowing which is which. And that's the difficult part."

"How do you tell?" asked Samantha.

"You don't," said Chloe, barking a short laugh. "It's impossible. The best thing to do is play the percentages. Don't get involved."

"Oh yeah, like you yesterday. You had the chance to stick up for him and you didn't. Drew really hurt him."

"Drew is going through some shit at the moment," said Chloe, realising too late that she was actually standing up for Drew. "Who knows why he did what he did yesterday? It's not my place to intervene. Anyway, you didn't intervene either, did you?"

"That's different," said Samantha.

"How?"

"I'm… he's much bigger than me," said Samantha, visibly shrinking away from Chloe. "He could have hurt me."

"Yeah, he's bigger than me too," said Chloe. "As I said, play the percentages. Now, Nathan seems quite volatile at the moment. If you want to help him, go into the audience and support him. Make sure he hears you cheering for him. Whatever you do, don't approach him at the moment. He's so wired he could snap at any time. You could get hurt."

"Yeah, you're right," said Samantha, nodding. "Thanks Chloe. I'll.. see you out there."

"Yeah, sure," said Chloe, as Samantha walked off. Chloe looked around to see the girl's dressing room. She walked in, hoping to see Rachel there, but instead Victoria Chase was there, standing in front of the mirror, apparently mid-breakdown.

"Come on, V," she was saying to herself. "Come on, you got this. You. Got. This. Oh, shit, I don't got this, I can't do it! I'm going to ruin everything, I know it! People are gonna laugh at me! Fuck!" She poured a couple of pills from a bottle and swallowed them, washing them down with what looked like a clear liquid, but the face she pulled after drinking it suggested it wasn't water. She looked in the mirror and saw Chloe turning around. "What the fuck are you two doing here?" she said. Chloe, confused, looked around to see Rachel standing behind her. "You're off the stage, bitch, remember? You let this loser sabotage you, just like she sabotaged my homework yesterday." She laughed. "But really, I should be thanking you, shouldn't I? I mean, I have everything I wanted. And you have a new friend. So I guess we're both doing great. Now, just please leave me alone so I can get ready for my command performance."

Rachel smiled gently. "Even though I wish I was the one performing tonight, Victoria, I really am happy for you. I hope it's everything you want it to be. Right, Chloe?"

"Fuck that," said Chloe, turning to Victoria. "Me sabotaging you? I'm not sure how you came to that conclusion."

"Well, you gave me the wrong answers on purpose," she said. "When I told Principal Wells about it…"

"Yeah, I know all about what you told Wells," said Chloe. "But I'm struggling to see how I sabotaged you. I mean, you were quite happy to plagiarise off me, weren't you?"

"That's different, bitch, and you know it."

"How?"

"Easy. Because of who I am." Victoria smirked at Chloe and looked away, facing the mirror again, but the other girl didn't respond. She just looked at Victoria with pity in her eyes.

"Fine. I get it," she said. "However, have you really thought this through, Vicky? Performing tonight could be the equivalent of… social suicide, you know."

"What?" Victoria snapped her head around to look at Chloe. She had her full attention. "What are you talking about? You think I'm going to take advice from a two-bit loser like you?"

"Yeah? You've seriously lost your mind, Vicky," said Chloe, insolently. "Look around you," she continued, gesturing around her with her arms. "Do you see any of your precious Vortex Club here? In this play?"

"Well, there's Nathan," said Victoria, "and Hayden. Dana, too…"

"… yeah, well, apart from Nathan, who is already melting down, the others actually have talent," said Chloe, thinking quickly. "Remember your Shakespeare: 'tis better to have loved and lost than never to have gone on stage and made complete knob of yourself in front of all your social influencers. And yeah, I said influencers," said Chloe, with a wink towards Rachel, who was looking at her questioningly, brow furrowed.

"People love the theatre," said Vicky, but her voice was beginning to waver, and Chloe knew she was hitting home. "It's cool."

"Newsflash, Icky Vicky," said Chloe. "High school is war. You know it, that's why you're fighting to get to the top, right? The theatre is the part of the war where you get impaled by a large pointy stick and you shit your guts out and then all your friends and minions abandon ye all hope. 'Cause there certainly won't be anyone entering you after that shitstorm."

"No, I don't agree," said Victoria. "The dramatic arts at Blackwell are venerated by…" she paused, and looked around at Rachel. "What am I saying? I don't have to justify myself to you," she said. "You're just talking shit."

"You weren't even picked for the role," said Chloe, undeterred. "You're the understudy. Think about that word for a moment, won't you? Under. Study. Second best. Loser. Kind of shows where your social standing would be if you went out there tonight, right? Under. Rachel was picked for the role, the understudy is just some sort of pity-fuck to make you feel like you didn't lose. Which you did," she helpfully added.

"That's not true!"

"You heard of the phrase 'drama queen', Vicky?" said Chloe, knowing she'd won. "That's you. And it's not a title people want. You'd best tell Mr K that you're sick. That way, you won't have to know what two hundred people laughing at you sounds like. Come on, you don't even know the part, do you? You try to hog every scene to deflect from the fact you don't want to be involved, you don't know it, you don't give a fuck about it."

"Chloe, that's a bit harsh, don't you think?" said Rachel, breaking into the conversation, but Victoria shook her head.

"No, she's right," she said, sounding deflated.

"She is?" said Rachel, turning to look at Victoria.

"I am?" said Chloe, in surprise.

"What was I even thinking?" said Victoria, gesturing to her costume. "I mean, look at this thing! I can't go out there like this! I look like a stupid fucking purple parrot! I can't play this part." She began crying. "I don't know the lines, I don't understand the stupid play, I don't even like the theatre!"

"Wait…" said Rachel, incredulously. "You don't know the lines?"

"Hello!" said Victoria, gesturing wildly with her arms. "I was cast as understudy to _you_! What were the chances I was actually going to be here? Of _course_ I didn't learn the lines. There was no point!"

"But…"

"I quit! The stupid fucking show can go to hell for all I care!" said Victoria, throwing her hands in the air. "I'm not going down with it!" She stormed out of the dressing room and there was a stunned silence for a few seconds. Then Rachel broke into a smile and nodded at Chloe, who was looking particularly smug.

"You outdid yourself, Price," she said, and Chloe chuckled, offering up a fist-bump, which was immediately accepted.

"Yeah. I guess I did," she said, smiling back, but then they heard raised voices from outside.

"Sweet tarnations!" exclaimed Mr Keaton from outside the dressing room, and Rachel mouthed 'That was quick' to Chloe, who nodded her head. "The show is ruined! _Ruined!_ " They both headed outside, to see Mr Keaton holding his head in his hands. Gathered around him were Hayden, Dana, Victoria, and the other cast members, apart from Nathan Prescott. "My dear, young artists," he lamented, "a misfortune most unkind has befallen us. Juliet… our sweet soul, is waylaid. That infernal inferno is the culprit, closing down the roads and robbing us of our Ariel." He raised his hands to the sky. "Would that she could but manifest on her master's whim as a true spirit, but Alas! We are devoid of an understudy, the situation is a dire one indeed. I'm afraid we may have to cancel. Truly, this play is cursed; we are a cursed lot. Even my prodigious imagination cannot conceive of a worse turn of fate."

"That's it!" shouted Victoria, and the director looked at her. "This show is a complete mess! It'll ruin my social standing! I quit!"

"Victoria?" breathed the director, in shock. "You… but…"

"In fact," she continued, oblivious to the director's machinations, "I am protesting the entire Blackwell arts programme. It's time our talents were appreciated, not squandered by subpar facilities. Good luck with your train wreck!" She walked off, leaving the other students open-mouthed.

"Touché, fates," said Keaton, head dropping. "Touché. Thou hast landed me at thy feet, begging thee for mercy."

"Mr Keaton?" said Rachel. "Perhaps I may permitted to fill in for Victoria?" The director looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time.

"My dear, your visage is as a vessel sent by the heavens to offer passage to my stranded soul," he said. "But I'm afraid, without our Ariel, all is still lost."

"Maybe not," said Rachel, sidling over to where Chloe was standing.

"What?" said Chloe. She looked across at Mr Keaton, who seemed to be sizing her up, then back at Rachel, then back at the director. "Oh, no," she said, the penny suddenly dropping. "No way."

"Mr Keaton…" started Rachel, but Chloe interrupted.

"No."

"… Chloe could step in for Juliet."

"No fucking way!" said Chloe, stepping backwards, but Rachel was behind her.

"At least until Juliet gets here. The roads will clear soon, and she _is_ the right size for Juliet's costume."

"She is indeed," said Keaton.

" _She_ is right here," said Chloe, "and _she_ is saying no. No way. Nuh-uh."

"Tell me, my dear," said Keaton, "have you ever acted before?"

"Hell no!" said Chloe, but Rachel shook her head. "It's stupid!"

"She's being modest," she said. "We play improv games all the time, she's absolutely fantastic at it! Honestly, she would be perfect to stand in for Juliet."

"My dear," said Keaton, turning to Chloe. "What if I told you that the entire fate of the production rests upon your slender shoulders?"

"Then… I'd say you were super-fucked!" said Chloe, but Rachel tapped her shoulder, and she spun round to see tears welling up in Rachel's eyes.

"Chloe, for me?" she said, quietly, and Chloe's resolve completely broke as she realised there was absolutely no way she could say no.

"Dammit," she muttered to herself, slowly nodding her head in agreement.


	28. The Tempest

"I can't believe she's talked me into this," muttered Chloe, as she looked through the script pages in front of her. "This is so… fucked up." She looked up and glanced in the mirror, frowning as she saw her costume, a feathery blue dress which what looked like a crow's beak as a hat. "I look stupid." She dropped her head. "Fucking… she's gonna pay for this."

"By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune hath mine enemies brought to this shore," said Rachel. She was on stage in her full costume, talking to Dana, who was dressed in a lovely plain white dress and was sat, looking up at her. "Here, cease more questions. Thou are inclined to sleep."

 _Fuck yeah, I could do with that. Send the audience to sleep, Rache, that way I might actually get through this._

 _You know, this could turn out to be fun._

 _For you, maybe. You're not the one dying out there._

 _Oh come on, it'll be great. You've always wanted to…_

 _Shut up! That's private!_

 _And I know about it. See, I know all your secrets._

 _Fucking…_

On stage, Dana yawned and lay down. "'Tis a good dullness," continued Rachel, and Chloe recognised her cue, "and give it way. I know thou canst not choose. Come away, servant, come!"

"Shit, I'm on," muttered Chloe, and Keaton tapped her on the shoulder. "Fucking…"

"Ariel, your destiny awaits," he said, pointing to the stage. Chloe looked up at Rachel, who was looking over towards her, beckoning her on, smiling.

"I am ready now!" announced Rachel, and Chloe's heart began pounding in earnest.

"Get up there!" said Keaton, and Rachel beckoned once more.

"My Ariel, approach," she said. "Come!"

"Damn it," muttered Chloe. "I've a bad feeling about this." She grinned at the reference, although secretly disappointed that there was no-one around to hear it, and climbed the stairs to the stage. "No worries. Just walk up to Rachel and say my line. Nothing to it," she said to herself. "I've got this." Her blood ran cold as she summoned all the strength she had, her legs were very wobbly just above the knees, and walked on the stage. "Fuck," she muttered, looking up.

The lights were completely blinding, but surprisingly this turned out to be a positive because it meant that she couldn't see any of the audience. All she could see, apart from the darkness beyond the lights (and a couple of outlines), was Dana on the floor and Rachel beckoning to her expectantly. "All hail, great mistress," she said with as much dramatic flair as she could muster, and Rachel smiled warmly, sending a wave of confidence suddenly washing over her, "I come to answer thy best pleasure." She felt as though her voice were not her own; the sound emanating from her lips seemed distant and different. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

"Most fearless, generous spirit!" cried Rachel, pounding the stage with her staff. "Hast thou performed to point the tempest that I bade thee?"

"Yea, verily, I have pointed thy tempest. And… um, forsooth, it was the pointiest tempest I ever… um, pointed." Chloe knew she was fumbling as soon as she'd started talking but she valiantly carried on, trying not to smirk.

"The pointiest? Then I am well assured," said Rachel, with a twinkle of amusement in her eye. "And did ye board the King's own ship?"

"Yea, I did," said Chloe, suddenly remembering the script she'd seen just before going on stage. "In every cabin, I flamed amazement. The fire and cracks of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune seemed to besiege and make this bold waves tremble." Amazingly, she was actually beginning to enjoy herself, striding back and forth on the stage, throwing her arms around as she spoke. Her enthusiasm wasn't lost on Rachel, who winked at her.

"My brave spirit!" she cried. "Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil would not infect his reason?"

"Not a soul," replied Chloe. "The King's son, Ferdinand, was the first mane that leaped from his ship, and cried… cried 'Hell is empty, and all the devils are here!'"

"Yes!" exulted Mr Keaton, from the wings. His stage whisper was a little louder than he intended, and it threw Chloe off her stride for a moment.

"But are they, Ariel, safe?" said Rachel, and Chloe was brought back to the play.

 _I'm supposed to walk somewhere now, aren't I?_

 _Try the box. It looks… comfy._

 _Bullshit._

 _Try it anyway. The audience don't want you to stay still too long._

She looked around the stage, then walked over and sat on a box near the front left. As she did so, Rachel banged her staff on the stage again. "How now, capricious friend? Thou art not done! If thou art tired, thou must needs repose."

 _Nope. That's not right. Why not try the shipwreck. Go and stand on it._

 _Really?_

 _It's really the only other thing here you can stand on._

There was quiet laughter from the audience, and Chloe stood and headed over to the shipwreck. She stood on the platform behind it.

"Not a hair perished, and, as thou bad'st me… I have dispersed them 'bout the isle in troops." She jumped off the shipwreck and joined Rachel at the front of the stage again.

 _You're doing well, Chloe._

"Is there more toil?" asked Chloe. "Let me remember thee what thou hast promised."

"How now?" said Rachel. "What is't thou canst demand?"

"My liberty!" cried Chloe, looking up to the heavens.

"Thy liberty?" said Rachel. "Nay! This most of all I will not grant!" This brought a moment of confusion to Chloe, as she didn't recognise her cue.

 _Are we skiing a little off-piste here? Damn you, Rachel, and your improvisation obsession._

 _No worries, Chloe. Remember, you can do this? You did that improvisation game with Rachel yesterday, yeah?_

 _I'll try._

 _Attagirl._

"But… thou has assured my freedom, didst thou?" she asked, and she saw the smallest of smiles from Rachel, her eyes twinkling, signifying she was on the right track.

"I never said how dearly I hold thee," said Rachel, looking deep into Chloe's eyes. "My habit's been to keep my soul well-draped. Most loyal spirit, companion and friend… is acting in my service not replete with excitement, amusement and delight?"

"Of course, mistress, most truly it is so," said Chloe, unsure of exactly where this was going, but at the same time her heart was pounding, awaiting more. She heard a whispered line from off-stage, but tried to ignore it. "Thy service is… exiting, exhilarating…"

"… breathtaking?" said Rachel, smirking at Chloe.

"Verily, yea, you are… I mean, it is breathtaking," said Chloe. Rachel had to turn away from the audience to desperately hide a grin at Chloe's slip-up.

"Mr Keaton, they're way off-script," whispered Nathan. "What's going on?"

"Sssh," said the director. "This is… magical."

"Then why," continued Rachel, composing herself once more, "I pray you, wish you your liberty?"

"Excitement and amusement may only be a novelty to you, my mistress," she said, warming to her role. "And it may age more swiftly than the leaves in the fall." She dropped her head, her eyes beginning to well up. "I fear, if we set out in search of new… experiences," she continued, allowing her voice to crack ever so slightly, "you will grow tired of my company and I fear, I will be isolated once more in solitary confinement, and my spirit would, I fear, not survive the loneliness."

Rachel drive her staff into the floor once more, causing Chloe to jump slightly. "I have thee in my grasp, fair Ariel," she said, "I will not bend. I will not see thee flying forth alone." Chloe could see the intensity and fire in Rachel's eyes, clarity suddenly washed over her and she knew where this was going.

"If thou care'st so much, then why canst thou accompany me? Surely that is in thy pow'r?" she said, and Rachel nodded.

"Spirit, take my hands," she said, putting down her staff and kneeling. Chloe allowed her to take her hands and she continued to kneel, holding both of Chloe's hand and looking up at her. "My most faithful, cherished friend," she murmured. "For but a little longer I beseech; continue in my service to my scheme. And when they are complete, I swear to thee; we shall fly far beyond this isle, the corners of the world our mere prologue. I'll seek to make thy happiness so great that e'en the name of liberty's forgot. What sayest thou to my most hopeful wish?" Rachel stopped speaking and looked up at Chloe, her eyes dark and glistening. Her eyelashes twitched as she looked up into the night at Chloe, the twinkling stars reflected in the moisture on the surface of her eyes. Her lips began to quiver, and Chloe's world went dark. It was as if all noise had been blanketed and suppressed, and she felt quite claustrophobic. All she could hear was her blood pounding in her ears; she felt the world close in around her.

 _Is Rachel asking me what I think she's asking me?_

 _She is, dummy. What are you going to do now?_

 _I… don't know._

 _Really? I'd say you know exactly what you want to do._

 _Want and actually do are two separate things._

 _They don't have to be, Chloe. Why don't you allow yourself some happiness for once? It's not prohibited, you know._

 _I'll only get hurt. I always get hurt._

 _Maybe, but it's no reason to cut yourself off from the world. No reason to isolate yourself in a form of solitary confinement for all eternity._

"Say yes, dammit!" cried a voice from the crowd, breaking through the deafening silence. Chloe looked down at Rachel. She could see no deception in her eyes; only hope and welling tears. Suddenly she knew what she had to say.

 _Go on. You know you want to._

 _I do. I do want to._

 _Then do it, Chloe. Be happy._

"Yes," said Chloe, a warm glow radiating down her spine, and Rachel smiled fully, wiping away tears in relief. "Yes, I will," she repeated, and the audience began to warmly applaud. Rachel stood, a little awkwardly and picked up her staff.

"I am most pleased, beautiful spirit," she said, still smiling. "Now leave me with haste. Your duty is done for now, however, mine is not." She winked at Chloe and nodded toward the side of the stage; Chloe smiled back, turned and left the stage. As she climbed down the stairs, she was greeted by Mr Keaton and Juliet, in her own Ariel costume. Chloe breathed a huge sigh of relief as she reached the bottom.

"You crushed it!" cried Julie. "Soooo good. Thanks, Chloe!" She threw her arms around Chloe, who responded a little stiffly.

"You're here," said Chloe, thankfully. "Thank fuck that's over and done with!"

"Nonsense! You're a born thespian, my dear child," said the director. "I'll be chasing you down next year. And the ending! Absolutely transformative! An inspired performance!" He smiled. "I am humbled. Well done! Oh that you were available when the play was initially cast…" He caught himself as he realised that Juliet was stood right next to him and he coughed awkwardly. Fortunately, it appeared that Juliet hadn't caught on.

"Thanks, I guess," said Chloe, not sure how to accept the praise.

 _What the fuck just happened? Did I just… act? Did Rachel just… do what I think she just did?_

On stage, Dana was rising from her slumber. "The strangeness of your story put heaviness in me," she said, standing up.

"Shake it off," said Rachel, crossing over to where Dana stood. "Come on, we'll visit Caliban, my slave."

"'Tis a villain," said Dana. "I do not love to look on!"

"He does make our fire, fetch in our wood," said Rachel, noticing Nathan waiting in the wings. "What ho!" she called. "Slave! Caliban! Come forth, I say!"

"That's you," said Mr Keaton, but Nathan stood there, frozen. "Come on," hissed the director, but still Nathan didn't move. His shoulders were shaking and Chloe could see he was gripped by stage fright. Eventually, Mr Keaton gave him a shove and he stumbled on stage. He looked murderously behind him, then crossed to where Rachel was standing. "Um, as wicked dew as…" he paused, looking desperately around the stage, "… as e'er my mother brush'd." His eyes were wild, flicking from left to right as he surveyed the audience.

"Thou poisonous slave," said Rachel, "got by the devil himself! Filth as thou art, I have lodged thee in mine own cell 'til thou didst seek to violate the honour of my child."

"Prescott!" yelled a voice from the audience. "Hey, gayboy! Wanna suck my dick?" There was a burst of laughter from the audience and Nathan looked even more unhappy.

"He doesn't know the lines!" shouted another voice. "He couldn't be arsed to learn them!"

"Shit!" he swore, bending over and beginning to sob loudly. Rachel looked on in astonishment, and Chloe could see her brain desperately working out ways to get around this unexpected turn of events.

"This will definitely test her improvisation skills," she muttered, and beside her, Juliet nodded.

"He's crying! He's actually crying!" she said. "Come on Nathan, sort yourself out!" She motioned to Rachel, who noticed her. "Come on, Rache, you got this," she mouthed, but Rachel only shrugged her shoulders.

"Nathan, come on, you're doing great!" cried a female voice from the audience which Chloe recognised as Samantha, but as she did so, other members of the audience began to mock him once again.

"Awww widdle cwy-baby!"

"Caliban!" called Rachel, projecting her voice above that of the audience. "Fetch us in fuel. Go now, and come back in haste. Quick, slave, hence!" Nathan stood and looked out at the audience.

"Prescoooootttt!" cried another voice.

"Go now, Caliban," called Rachel once more. She nodded encouragingly towards Nathan, but he was past caring.

"Fuck you!" he yelled, stumbling as he ran off-stage. As he did so, Juliet walked on stage and began to dance around, playing a flute. Hayden, resplendent in his regal costume entered the stage close behind her.

"Where should this music be?" he asked. "In the air or the earth?"

"Oh thank god," muttered Keaton beside Chloe. "That was just… why did I even cast Nathan Prescott? Would Victoria Chase have been the same if Rachel hadn't been here?"

"Probably," said Chloe to herself, but Keaton heard.

"I should have known," he said. "It is my eternal folly, to trust in those who have capacity for honour." He nodded at Chloe. "I am still, ever grateful to you, young Chloe, for your inspired cover for our Ariel."

"No worries, dude," said Chloe. "This play is super intense."

"It is that," he said, "but also can be murdered, as we just witnessed. However, at least your Ariel was tumultuous, and we are back on track now."

Later, Rachel and Juliet faced each other on stage. Chloe had been reading the script and knew this was practically the end. Nathan hadn't appeared again (nobody actually knew where he'd gone), but Rachel and the other cast members had gainfully covered for him.

"His tears run down his beard," said Juliet to Rachel. "Like winter's drops from eaves of reeds."

"Go release them, Ariel," said Rachel. "My charms I'll break, their sense I'll restore, and they shall be themselves." Juliet left the stage, leaving Rachel to address the audience one final time.

"Now, my chains are all o'erthrown, and what strength I have's mine own," she said, her voice ringing clear and true across the campus in the clear air. "Pray, release me from my bands, with the help of your good hands," she finished, dropping her head. In front of her, a light ripple of applause turned into a standing ovation as the audience realised the play was over. Rachel took their bows, and the gestured to the other cast members to join her on stage. Juliet was first, followed by Hayden and Dana. Nathan was still nowhere to be found. Mr Keaton joined them on stage to take the applause, and then Rachel beckoned to Chloe, who shook her head. However, she wasn't taking no for an answer, and she ran over and pushed Chloe on stage. As the audience saw Chloe, they redoubled their applause and cheering.

"Wasn't that fun?" whispered Rachel.

"You are so dead."

"Yeah? How dead?"

"Hella dead," said Chloe, but she couldn't keep the smile off her face. She took a bow and let the applause wash over her, as more than a few audience members began shouting her name. The lights dimmed as they took a final bow and as Chloe's eyes adjusted, she saw the mysterious woman, the one Frank had called Sera, standing at the back of the crowd. As she looked, Sera turned and left, disappearing into the night.


	29. The Walk Home

The street light illuminated the two girls as they walked along the dark urban area. They weren't walking in a straight line, however; rather dancing around each other, jumping on and off the kerb, laughing and joking with each other; in short, being friends.

"Oh my god, yes!" laughed Rachel as she swung around a lamppost one-handed. "Keaton's face behind you when you walked on stage was an absolute picture!"

"Ugh," said Chloe. "His face? I was absolutely shitting myself! I don't think I've ever been as legitimately terrified as I was then!"

"So was he!" screeched Rachel, laughing. "I mean, kudos to him for even entertaining the prospect of you going on stage. I mean, you didn't even know the play, let alone the lines!"

"Kudos to him? What about kudos for me? That dude owes me _big time_ ," said Chloe, and Rachel stopped swinging around the lamppost and looked intensely at Chloe.

"My dear," she said, imitating Mr Keaton's voice. "What if I told you that the entire fate of our production rests upon your slender shoulders?" Both girls broke out laughing. "I've never had an experience like that before onstage," she continued. "That was intense!"

"Yeah right, you were…" said Chloe, but Rachel interrupted her.

"No, you," she said. "Like, seriously." She began swinging again. "Ah, I love nights after a show!"

"Is it always like this?"

"Oh, totally!" said Rachel. "It's such a high. No more nerves, just the adrenaline." She stopped swinging again. "So, first-timer, ye virgin of the stage, are you proud of yourself?" When Chloe didn't answer, she continued. "I'm proud of you. You got pretty much everything spot on. I was… blown away. Seriously. You're… really quite talented, you know."

"Yeah," said Chloe. "I feel really awesome. If you'd told me this morning I'd be feeling this happy right now…"

"Yeah, you've gone through so much shit today…"

"Right now's pretty good," said Chloe, but Rachel didn't answer. She just looked expectantly at her friend. "Okay," laughed Chloe. "So the whole show was good. I admit it." Rachel held out her arm, and Chloe's heart started pounding in her ears again.

 _Go on, take it. Say something. This is your chance._

After a moment's hesitation, Chloe took Rachel's arm. "Actually, everything's been pretty magical since we started hanging out," she said, earning a warm smile from Rachel.

"Yeah, I agree," she said. "It feels like we're… complete now."

"Yeah, like we were missing something." At this, Rachel stopped swinging and jumping around and stood in front of Chloe, their faces only inches apart.

"Chloe Price, are you paying me a compliment?" she murmured demurely, and Chloe swallowed nervously.

"I… suppose I am," said Chloe. "I mean…"

"No, don't spoil it," said Rachel. "I like it." She leaned in ever so slightly and Chloe found herself mirroring, her heart pounding as their lips grew closer and closer. As they were about to touch, however, there was a sudden racket as two cats in a nearby garden decided to declare war on each other and Chloe and Rachel sprang apart, surprised by the noise, and the moment was gone. There was a flash of disappointment on Rachel's face, but as suddenly as it was there, it was gone. "So, what was your favourite part of the show?" she asked.

"The applause at the end was pretty cool," said Chloe. "But I think for me, it was when I was on stage with you and my nerves vanished. It was about halfway through the scene I think."

"Yeah, I think I know the exact moment," said Rachel. "I think it was just after you sat on the box."

"Um, that wasn't right, was it?" laughed Chloe and Rachel shook her head.

"No! You were supposed to head over to the wreck and stand there," she said, giggling. "But you remembered that after I… ahem…"

"… berated me? That wasn't in the script!"

"Well, I had to think of something!" said Rachel, laughing still. "Anyway, it worked. Nobody noticed. But if we're talking about that…"

"… oh no…"

"… why don't we mention pointing the… oh, what was it…"

"… please, no…"

"… oh yeah, the _pointiest_ tempest, I think!" Rachel let out a huge screech of laughter and stopped walking. "I mean, what in the actual _fuck_ was that all about?"

"I forgot the line!" said Chloe, defending herself. "I had to come up with something on the spur of the moment."

"William would turn in his grave," said Rachel.

"William?"

"Really? The author. William Shakespeare."

"Oh, yeah." Said Chloe, her face reddening.

"Well, I liked it. The pointiest tempest. I think I'll adopt it," said Rachel. "It will remind me of you every time I read that play." She looked at Chloe again and stamped her foot. "Let's leave," she said suddenly. "For real."

"For real?" said Chloe, slightly taken aback.

"You said you wanted to skip town and never look back. Like I said last night, let's do it."

"I know," said Chloe, chuckling nervously. "I've been thinking about that all day! But that was…"

"Don't say it was just a crazy thought," said Rachel, interrupting. "You meant it, I can tell. You want this. And so do I. We can do this."

"Yeah, but like, eventually," said Chloe, now more nervous than ever.

"Let's go _now_ ," said Rachel, taking both of Chloe's hands and shaking them. "Right now."

"But we can't…"

"Why not?" scoffed Rachel.

"Money?"

"You're a high-rolling criminal now," said Rachel. "We have money, don't we?"

"No we don't. I gave it back to Drew. He needed it more." Rachel's face fell.

"I guess," she said. "We could have used it, thought."

"No shit, but… man, I'm not looking forward to seeing Frank when he finds out."

"We'll figure it out, Chloe, don't worry about that," said Rachel. "Anyway, I've got enough to get us started. I always get birthday money. Or… should I say 'hush money'."

"We also don't have transport," said Chloe.

"You have that truck, right?"

"It doesn't even start, Rache!" said Chloe. "I was only seeing if I could fix it up."

"Well, can you?"

"I guess I can try."

"I know you, Chloe Price," said Rachel. "You'll figure it out. I know what you're capable of when you put your mind to something. I have full confidence in you. Look at what you did tonight. That was… very impressive."

"it was cool, I'll give you that," said Chloe, smiling. "Okay, so you have some money, I'll need to fix up the truck. I don't even know if I _can_ fix it up yet, Rache," she continued. "What if I can't?"

"We'll catch a bus. Plenty of busses going out of this shithole." She took Chloe's hands again and started swinging them back and forth. "So, where should we go?"

"You could show me LA?" said Chloe immediately, and Rachel's eyes glistened as she agreed.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Perfect. Sixty degrees every night. You and me on the Santa Monica pier, gorging on food truck food, smoking up, looking at the moon shining on the waves."

"Our very own Santa Monica Dream," said Chloe. "Sounds good." She thought about it for a moment and pursed her lips. "There's a song in there somewhere," she said, smiling.

"And a beautiful blonde man will sit next to us and smile at you."

"Yeah, right," scoffed Chloe, but Rachel hadn't finished.

"He'll say," she put on a deep voice, "'I like your eyes, baby', and I'll say 'Back off, man, she's with me.'" The proclamation from Rachel gave Chloe the full warm fuzzies, and her heart started pounding in her ears again.

"You're so full of shit, Amber!" she said, laughing, but Rachel didn't laugh back. She just stared at Chloe with an intensity that made Chloe feel a little uncomfortable.

"I love this time of night," she said. "Don't you just feel like anything's possible?"

"Rachel, stop," said Chloe, tears in her eyes. "Please."

"Chloe, what's wrong?" said Rachel. "Are you okay?"

"Look, if you don't mean this, then please stop," Chloe said. "It's just making me feel like shit that this life you're describing isn't going to happen, and I'm really fed up of feeling like shit."

"Chloe, for fuck's sake, I've never been more serious in my life," said Rachel, still holding on to Chloe's hands. "What would it take to convince you?"

Chloe's heart stopped.

 _Now or never, babe._

 _What do you mean?_

 _Really? I know you, remember? I know you've been thinking about this moment since yesterday._

 _I've no idea what you're talking about._

 _Yes. You do. Especially since it nearly happened about five minutes ago._

 _I… can't._

 _Coward. You know you want to. Hell, I know you want to._

"Um, how about, um.. you know…" Rachel furrowed her brow and looked at her friend. Chloe's face had dropped her usual bravado mask and was now a cloud of uncertainty. The penny dropped and Rachel smiled warmly.

"Oh," said Rachel. She took a step forward and, somewhat uncertainly leaned into Chloe. They both closed their eyes and their lips met. Chloe's eyes widened in shock, but just as she leaned into the kiss, Rachel leaned back. "Is that convincing enough?" she said, and dumbly, Chloe shook her head.

"Not rea…" she began, but Rachel put her hands either side of Chloe's face and drew her in for a far more passionate, meaningful kiss. Chloe stiffened her body at first, but soon leaned into the kiss, putting her hands on Rachel's back and pulling her in, deepening the contact. Both girls had their eyes closed as they enjoyed the sensation and emotions that were raging around both of their bodies as their connection deepened further when Rachel ran her tongue gently over Chloe's lips, asking for entry. Chloe's lips, more on instinct than anything sort of conscious decision, parted and her brain exploded into waves of pleasure as their tongues connected. Chloe was vaguely aware of time slowing down and all outside sounds ceasing; she could hear only the blood pounding in her ears. Finally, they broke off the kiss and looked at each other in a mixture of shock and excitement. Chloe was the first to break the silence.

"Holy shit!" she breathed.

"Right?" said Rachel.

"I mean, holy…" Chloe looked at Rachel. "Was that… real?"

"Believe it, Chloe," said Rachel. "It was real, and it was…"

"Totally fucking hot?" breathed Chloe, and Rachel nodded.

"Have you ever…"

"Not like that," said Chloe. "That was…"

"… you had the fireworks too?" Chloe just nodded and Rachel took her in her arms and they embraced warmly. When they parted, Chloe nodded at Rachel's arm.

"Nice bracelet," she said.

"Thanks. I've never taken it off," said Rachel, nodding down at her wrist. "My dad says I wore it home from the hospital, if you can believe that. I don't know why, but it's always reminded me that the world is a lot bigger than Arcadia Bay. But stop changing the subject," she continued, grinning. "Are you more convinced now?"

Chloe nodded, then looked up at the sky, frowning. Ash was falling from the forest fire that was still raging around Arcadia Bay. She held out her hands and Rachel did likewise. They stood for a moment, then brushed the ash off their hands and clothes. "What is this stuff?" asked Chloe, looking up into the sky still.

"I think it's a sign," said Rachel.

"Yeah, it's a sign alright. We're going out of business?" said Chloe, and Rachel pursed her lips together.

"You really watch too much Ghostbusters," she said, and Chloe grinned.

"Twenty points," she said. "That wasn't a difficult one." Rachel looked at her with fire in her eyes.

"I think we should leave tonight," she said, and Chloe took a step back.

"Really?"

"If you want to, I'm ready," said Rachel. She brushed her hair behind her ear.

"Money?"

"Leave that to me."

"Transport?"

"We'll go to the junkyard. If you can't fix the truck up, we'll catch a bus out." Rachel was practically bouncing with excitement. "We can do this, Chloe, we can really do this," she said. "Let's go sneak some clothes and stuff from my house."

"For you?" said Chloe, her head still reeling from the intensity of the kiss.

"You look damned hot in my clothes," said Rachel. "For both of us."

"Cool, let's do it," said Chloe, giving in.

"And then we get the hell out of here."

Chloe reached over and brushed some ash off Rachel's hair, earning another warm smile from her friend. "Sounds perfect," she said, and Rachel grabbed Chloe's hand, pulling her down the road towards her house. Chloe let herself be guided, her head still spinning and soon they were standing outside Rachel's house.

"Okay," said Rachel. "Commence Operation: Sneak Clothes out."


	30. Operation: Sneak Clothes Out

The stealthy entry to Rachel's house lasted approximately 10 seconds. As they sneaked into the house, noticing Rose chopping food, Rachel held a finger to her lips and pointed up the stairs. They began to quietly climb the stairs, but were met by her father coming down the stairs, holding his usual newspaper.

"Oh, you're home," he said, noticing them, and Chloe's heart sank. "Rose, Rachel's home, and she, um, brought her friend."

There was nothing to it but to head back downstairs, where Rose hugged her daughter. "Our star returns," she said. "You're just in time. Dinner's almost ready. Um, Chloe, wasn't it?"

"Nailed it," said Chloe. "I… must have been pretty memorable this morning." She smiled wanly, but Rachel's mother nodded.

"You were indeed," she said. "I get the sense that you're used to making an impression."

"Ah yes, Chloe," said James. "Rachel's 'friend' who's been leading her astray." His voice betrayed his contempt.

"Now James, that's not fair," said Rose. "We don't know the girl at all, only what Principal Wells had to say this morning. We can't judge her on that alone." She headed back into the kitchen area. "You know what he's like when he gets funny about things, James. We should at least try to get to know her."

"Rachel, honey," said James. "You were resplendent tonight."

"Thank you," said Rachel.

"Chloe, you must join us for dinner tonight," called Rose from the kitchen.

"Uh, she must?" Rachel asked.

"I… must?" said Chloe.

"Of course you must," said James. "We want to talk to you."

"I made chicken a la king," said Rose, quickly. "I'm sure you both acted up quite the appetite this evening."

"Thanks… but I was just gonna stop in for a sec and then bounce," said Chloe, feeling very awkward. Rose looked downcast.

"Oh, did you have other dinner plans?" she asked, and Chloe frowned.

"Dinner… plans?" she said. "I always thought dinner was something that just sort of happened." There was a stifled giggle from Rachel, and Chloe tried to hide her smirk.

"Chloe," said James, after a glance from Rose. "I… know we didn't exactly meet each other at our best this morning. But with you and Rachel becoming such fast friends, I insist you join us for dinner. Don't you agree, Rachel?"

"Um, yes of course," said Rachel, after a pause and a glance at Chloe. "Chloe, would you please join us for dinner tonight?"

"I'd be… um, happy to," said Chloe, "I guess."

"Excellent. That's settled then. I just need to wash off, and then I'll be right down," said Rachel.

"Don't be long," said Rose. "In the meantime, perhaps you can help me with the table, Chloe?"

"Sure thing, Mrs Amber," said Chloe. Before she went upstairs, Rachel pulled her to one side.

"Okay, I'm gonna go pack," she whispered. "After dinner we can make our break. You okay down here?"

"Totally," said Chloe. "Your parents love me, right? Except your father."

"Yeah, they're good at coming off that way, but it's an act. Don't let your guard down, not even once. They will probably try and get as much information out of you as possible, and they're very good at doing it without you realising it, okay? Don't' forget, he's the DA for a reason."

"Sure thing," said Chloe.

"We just need to make it through dinner, okay? Try not to say anything that… you know…"

"I know," said Chloe. "Try not to say anything that I would normally say. That could be… challenging," she continued with a wry grin.

"Exactly," said Rachel, grinning. She headed upstairs, leaving Chloe alone with her parents. Rose was back preparing the meal, and James had sat down at the table and was reading his newspaper. Chloe walked over to Rose.

"Hi there, Mrs Amber," she said. "Did you enjoy the play?"

"I did," she said. "Of course, Rachel was excellent, she always is, but I never really liked the Tempest. I thought that she was the shining star of the play, although I must say I was somewhat surprised to see you on the stage. What did you think of it?"

"Honestly? I didn't get it," said Chloe. "I mean, I was press-ganged into the role because Juliet was held up in traffic, so I only read a couple of pages. I tried to follow the play afterwards, but I didn't get it. Something about a storm, a prince and an underage girl. That's pretty much all I got." She pursed her lips. "Theatre isn't really my thing, if I'm honest. I guess I'm not so much into saying words that other people came up with. I prefer saying my own stuff – you know, say what you mean and mean what you say, that sort of thing."

"Fair point," smiled Rose. "Then again, I'm not sure you can judge the entire art form based on the dead white men your curriculum focuses on." Chloe raised her eyebrows at this, but Rose seemed quite serious.

"Damn, shots fired, Shakespeare," said Chloe, smiling back. "Anyway, you wanted some help?"

"Oh yes, thank you Chloe," she said. "Could you set the table please? The plates are in the cupboard over there. Oh, and could you ask James what he'd like to drink, please?"

"Of course, Mrs Amber," said Chloe. She dutifully retrieved the plates from the cupboard and set them on the table, then sat down next to James.

"Um, hi there, Mr Amber," she said, and James put down his paper to look at her.

"Good evening, Chloe," he said, perfectly pleasantly. "What can I do for you?"

"Just wondered what your vice was," she said, without thinking, and James looked at her.

"I'm sorry?"

"A joke, sorry," said Chloe, her heart pounding as she mentally cursed herself. "Mrs Amber wanted to know what kind of drink you fancied."

"Oh, uh, let's say sherry," he said, and Chloe grinned.

"I can do that," she said. "One, two, three… sherry!" Once again the joke fell flat and Chloe looked around, half-expecting to see a tumbleweed rolling past.

"Very droll," said James, raising one eyebrow. Chloe decided to try a more serious tack.

"What did you think of the play?" she asked. "I thought Rachel was perfectly cast."

"She certainly was," said James. "We are both so proud of her. I must admit I had no idea they were going to do that."

"Do what?"

"I don't know the name for it… reverse casting? You know, when they cast a woman as a man."

"Ah yes, that's cross-gender casting," said Chloe, and James looked surprised at her knowledge. "They do that a lot with Shakespeare plays. Although most of the time it was men being cast as women, right?"

"Yes." James paused. "We were both surprised to see her in the role, though. Especially after what Ray said this morning about handing it over to her understudy. Uh, Victoria, wasn't it? I was wondering if you were able clear that up for us?"

"Ah yes," said Chloe, "it was simple, really. We were there, and Rachel was packing up to hand over to Vicky, when she suddenly decided she couldn't do the part. Something about the fact that she hated the theatre, she hadn't bothered to learn any of the lines, she didn't want to commit social suicide and she was apparently way too high to concentrate. Something like that. She then announced it to the rest of the cast, it was quite fortuitous that Rachel was there and able to step back into her role."

"And of course, you appeared as well. I was… surprised. Again considering what happened this morning."

"Juliet was held up, bad traffic due to the fire so she wasn't able to make the start of the show," said Chloe. "I was… basically press-ganged into it, due to me being the only person there stupid enough to say yes." She chuckled. "Although, I must admit I quite enjoyed it once I'd got over my nerves."

"Actually, you did very well, especially considering you didn't know the play. Well done," he said. "Although I'm more interested in this Victoria girl. Did you just say she was high? Like, on drugs high?" He frowned. "I'm not sure that's allowed on campus, is it?"

Rachel's words of warning suddenly came back to Chloe, and she realised the trap she'd fallen into. "I'm not sure, to be honest, Mr Amber," she said, backpedalling swiftly. "She did tell me she hadn't bothered to learn the lines and that she hated the theatre, but I couldn't confirm anything else. I'm just glad she didn't go on stage – what with both her and Nathan Prescott, the whole show would have turned into a train wreck!" She breathed deeply. "I don't think Principal Wells really thought things through when he kicked Rachel off the play this morning."

"Yes, I did notice that Nathan didn't really gel into the role tonight," said James. "He didn't seem like he really wanted to be there." He sighed. "It's such a shame that there's a stigma on boys for enjoying the stage. It makes casting for plays very difficult. Still, I'm glad that Rachel shone, and you did very well too. Which brings me nicely onto the subject at hand," continued James. "We've heard practically nothing about you; we didn't even know you existed until this morning. How long have you known Rachel?"

"I mean, I've seen her around campus before," said Chloe. "I mean, who hasn't? You know, she's popular, she's smart, she's… We only really connected a couple of days ago at the old…" Chloe stopped talking, realising what she was about to say. "I mean, we sort of bumped into each other. I think we'd both been wanting to talk to the other for a while, but never really got around to it. We ended up talking for ages, and then, you know, um, yesterday." She giggled nervously and cleared her throat a couple of times.

"Look," said James, leaning his face on his hands and his elbows on his knees. "I'll be straight with you. I don't know you, but I'm happy that Rachel seems to have found a real friend. I know that, even though you say she's popular in school, I know that most of those will just be hangers-on. I may be her father, but I'm not old enough to ignore the fact that she's lonely. It's good she's found you…"

"… thank you, Mr Amber…"

"… but I'm warning you, Chloe," he continued, and Chloe had no doubt that he was serious. "If you lead her astray again, there will be serious consequences. I know she covered for you this morning, I also know your… ahem… colourful history with Blackwell, but I can also see that you are far more intelligent that you make out. It's interesting, usually it's the other way around. But I will not tolerate you bringing her down with you. You are to be a good influence on her, or there will be no friendship. Am I understood?"

"Um, of course, Mr Amber." Chloe decided that minimal interaction was the best possible strategy. "You know that Rachel is her own person, yeah?"

"And what exactly does that mean?"

"You and Wells were all to eager to believe that it was my fault this morning. I mean, you were happy to think it was my bad behaviour rubbing off on her. Look, I know I'm no angel, I said that this morning, I think, but she's her own person, too." Chloe sighed. "She doesn't strike me as the sort of person who would go along with something she didn't want to go along with, no matter how much Wells wanted to place the blame on me."

"That's true," admitted James, "but it's so unlike her. Do you have any idea why she felt like that?"

"Um, hard to say," said Chloe, trying to bite her tongue and not ruin the moment with words like 'cheating', 'lying' and 'scumbag'. "Maybe she's rebelling against something, or someone."

"Nonsense," said James. "What would she have to rebel against? We've given her everything she could ask for. Don't tell her, but I'm actually very proud of what she did this morning," said James, surprising Chloe. "I know exactly what she was doing, and I know what Ray would have done to you if she hadn't covered for you. It shows she values loyalty. It's a good trait." He looked back at Chloe. "Look, I'd be lying if I said I didn't have any concerns about your friendship. But I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps you are exactly what Rachel needs right now, as she navigates the choppy waters of adolescence." He put his newspaper back up, and Chloe understood the conversation was over.

"Right, thanks Mr Amber," she said. After talking to Rose again, she retrieved a sherry glass from the cabinet (she needed some help identifying the different glasses) and lit the candles on the table.

 _The Amber family and fire. What could possibly go wrong?_

…

Silence had descended upon the Amber household, broken only by the clink of cutlery on china, and the occasional sound of chewing. James sat at the head of the table, with Rachel to his left and his wife to his right. Chloe sat to Rachel's left and, despite the awkwardness of the stilted conversation, she was enjoying the meal, which was actually quite delicious and completely different in style to the food her mother cooked. Not that one was better than the other, it was just different. Joyce usually produced delicious, homely meals, whereas this seemed to be bordering on the fine-dining end of the scale. Either way, it was tasty. Next to her, she could feel Rachel's tension, both in the way her friend talked (whenever she talked to her father her voice was clipped and terse and her words minimal), so she concentrated on the food in front of her. Eventually, however, Rose turned to her and cleared her throat. Chloe dutifully looked up.

"So Chloe," she said, brightly, "are you and Rachel in any of the same classes?"

"Not since this morning," answered Chloe immediately, before realising the meaning of what she'd said. To her credit, Rose looked faintly embarrassed.

"Oh gosh, Chloe, I'm so sorry," she said, "I didn't think…"

"Nah, that's cool," said Chloe. "If I'm honest, I think it was coming."

"What, your suspension?" said James, frowning. "How do you figure that?"

"Yeah, I mean, look at me," said Chloe. "Although I'm pretty sure that if I'd met Rachel months ago instead of days, she would have had me back on the straight and narrow in no time at all. I know that Wells wanted me out, he wasn't exactly subtle about that, but I have to look at my behaviour and take some responsibility for myself. You were right about me, Mr Amber," she continued, "I _did_ go off the rails a bit after my dad was killed in a car wreck, but Rachel here, and a couple of other people in school that I've started talking to in the last couple of days have shown me, if you like, the error of my ways." Chloe lowered her head. "I'm not proud of what happened this morning, but I'd like to look ahead and ensure it doesn't affect my future." She looked to her right. "And your daughter has been a big help so far."

"Of course, Rachel's always been only to glad to help people in need, haven't you, darling?" said Rose. Chloe felt her throat constricting at this, but, by her side, Rachel's hand had found its way on to her thigh and it had the desired calming effect.

"That's right Mom," said Rachel, "but the great thing about Chloe is that she helps me as much as I help her." She smiled. "I know I already apologised for yesterday, but Chloe, thank you for being there for me. I'm just sorry that… well, you know." There was an awkward silence for a few minutes before Rose tried again.

"So, what about that forest fire?" she said. "I heard it was causing all sorts of disruptions, you know, on the roads, the traffic, that sort of thing." Rachel was in the middle of taking a drink of water and she choked and coughed violently at this.

"Dinner's really good, Mom," she said, after clearing her throat.

"Thank you, Rachel," said her mother. "Yes, the way the fire spread so fast, I've never heard of anything like it."

"Yeah, it's scary," said Chloe. "Scary how it spread so quickly."

"Yes. You know, after the floods upstate last year, I was overjoyed that we had less rain this year, but now… who knew a spring drought could be even more dangerous?"

"That's right," said Chloe. "You never really know where a deadly spark will come from." The two girls shared a quick glance.

"It's certainly troubling," said James. "The latest report from the commissioner's office suggests arson."

"Arson? Why would anyone do that?" said Rose, and James shook his head.

"Any number of reasons, dear," he said. "With everything going on in the world today, even a town like Arcadia Bay isn't immune to the ills of society."

"It could have been an accident, surely," said Chloe. "I mean, why would anyone want to…"

"It _is_ possible it was accidental, I suppose," said James, musing, "but I don't know. There are a number of young delinquents around town that would do something like this just to spite us all. They don't think about the consequences of their actions. You know, society would be far better off if they were just locked up away from us all. My job would be far easier if I didn't always have to deal with the younger element that think they know best, don't care for authority or anyone else, and just do what they feel like, when they feel like it. I'm sick of it, to be honest." Again, there was an awkward silence as Rachel and Chloe glanced at each other a few times, Chloe noticing that Rachel's complexion was steadily going redder and redder, but once again, Rose broke the silence before Chloe could say anything.

"I can't imagine how difficult these last couple of years have been for you, Chloe," she said. "But now that you and Rachel have become friends, I want you to know that our home is always open to you."

"Cool, thanks, Mrs A," she said. "It's…"

"Well said, my dear," said James, placing his hand on top of his wife's. "It's imperative that, in such troubled times as these, that we remember what is most important to us." He paused. "Family." As he said this, Chloe noticed that Rachel was becoming visibly upset. She was fidgeting with her hands and looking down and definitely trying to stop the tears welling up in her eyes. James didn't notice and just carried on talking. "Family's not merely a gift, it is a responsibility. And as such, those we love must be cared for. And never, ever taken for granted."

Chloe glanced to her right at Rachel and cleared her throat. "Yeah, that's super true. And also remember Rachel that, even when, um, shit's, like the lamest ever, you can always run away from whatever's bothering you. As long as you just _keep calm_. Keeping calm is always the best thing to do, right?" She reached her hand over and placed it deliberately on Rachel's thigh, just like Rachel had done for her earlier on, but this time it did not have the desired effect. In fact, Rachel actively pushed her away.

"An interesting philosophy, Chloe," said Rose, frowning. She hadn't noticed Rachel either.

"Indeed," said James. "Not a philosophy I would personally endorse, however. I favour confronting me problems head-on. But, to each their own, I suppose. Now, when it comes to family, it's important that…"

"Oh, fucking blow me!" cried Rachel, bursting into tears.

"Rachel!" said her mother, shocked.

"Uh, that's just a little joke we have…" started Chloe, but Rachel interrupted her.

"Chloe, stop. I can't sit here and listen to this bullshit anymore," she cried.

"Rachel!" Rose said, again.

"Young lady," said James, "you'll explain yourself _this instant_. I won't have you…"

"Stop it, dad! You're a fucking hypocrite, okay? I know! You're a lying, cheating piece of shit motherfucking scumbag!"

"Way to go, Rachel," whispered Chloe. "But don't you think you…"

"Excuse me?" Rachel's outburst had left James temporarily speechless.

"We saw you," cried Rachel. "Yesterday. At the overlook. You want to know why I skipped school? You want to know the real reason I dragged Chloe along with me? Yeah, it was me, not Chloe. All me. Are you proud of me _now_ , Dad? You want to know why I skipped? I'll tell you why. Because I saw the text, Dad. I saw it. So I went to see you. To see you. Kissing that woman. Under the tree near the fucking Overlook. We were fucking watching you, _Dad_! Now talk to me about fucking family bullshit, trust and responsibility! Go on. _I fucking dare you, Dad!_ "

"James?" Rose looked over at her husband, who was just looking visibly shocked at Rachel's revelation and language. "What's Rachel talking about? Rachel, did you say you saw your father… _kissing_ another woman? James?"

"Rachel, honey," he began, reaching out to her, but she shrank away from his touch. "Whatever you saw yesterday, or think you saw, I know it's hard, but it's not what you think. I need you to trust me."

"What we _think_ we saw?" said Chloe, unable to stop herself from staying quiet. "Are you actually serious? There's no thinking involved. We saw you, through a telescope, locking lips with a woman who is _not_ sitting at this table. I'll tell you what, it's _exactly_ what we both saw." As she finished speaking, James stood up suddenly and banged his hand on the table.

"That's _enough_!" he said, raising his voice. "You are no longer welcome here or around my daughter any longer! I know _exactly_ what kind of person you are from the moment I saw you, and I'm afraid I let my wife's compassion get the better of me. But no more!"

"Oh, and what kind of person is that?" said Chloe, also standing up, her hackles now completely raised.

"A juvenile delinquent!" he roared. "I looked through your record, young lady, and it is _despicable!_ Crime, drugs, alcohol. No, I _refuse_ to have you corrupting my daughter any longer."

"Corrupting your…" Chloe barked a short laugh. "That's rich, coming from you. As I said, I'm not proud of my past, but I am facing up to it. At least I'm honest about it."

"Honest? You? You don't even know the meaning of the word." James's face was beginning to turn a dark shade of purple.

"Let he who is without sin cast the first stone," retorted Chloe. "You know, I was actually beginning to enjoy myself tonight. I thought that you might look past my baggage and see me for who I am _now_ , not who I was then. But of course I was wrong. You, Mr High-and-fucking-mighty District Attorney. And you looked through my record? Tell me, what did you find?"

"A broken girl from a broken home!" bellowed James. "That's all you are, that's all you'll _ever_ be!"

"James!" cried Rose. "That's enough! Sit down this instant!" Her raised voice cut through everything and both James and Chloe stopped shouting, stunned. "I will _not_ have you talk to Chloe like this."

"Rose, keep out of this," he said, but she shook her head.

"No. This is Chloe's friend, and a guest in our house. And you know what? She's right."

"She's…? About what? What _are_ you talking about, woman?"

"About facing up to her past," said Rose, her face also betraying her irritation. "Oh, and this _woman_ has a name, James, okay? You'll keep a civil tongue with me. It _is_ her responsibility, and I, for one, think it's great that she's recognising what she did wrong, and she's actually crediting our daughter with helping her to see that. So, you will _sit down_ , and _shut up_! You will _not_ insult a guest in our home again. Is that clear?" She sat down, breathing heavily, but James and Chloe continued to stand, glaring at each other, until Rachel lifted the bowl from the table and smashed it down, breaking the glass of the table as she did so.

"Why can't you just tell me the fucking truth?" she screamed, tears running down her face as the others stared at her, shocked. "Stop fucking lying! Stop being a fucking politician for one fucking minute! Can't you just… be my dad? And tell me, who was she and why are you cheating on Mom with her?" There was a shocked silence, and James finally sat down heavily, sighing as he did so. Chloe sat also, but more carefully, still on her guard.

"Rachel," said James, his voice bereft of all its prior malice, looking directly at his daughter. "I wasn't cheating on your Mom. She wasn't my mistress. She was… that woman is your mother."

"My… _what?_ " Rachel looked absolutely stunned.


	31. Revelations

Rachel was still completely speechless. After the stunning revelation that Sera was her mother, she'd allowed Chloe to lead her to the sofa where they'd both sat down opposite James and Rose.

"My… mother," muttered Rachel. She looked up at her parents, well, her father and…

 _… Mom? Stepmom? Who?..._

… with tears in her eyes, although she wasn't crying. James sat heavily down on a chair and his wife stood next to him, putting her hand on his shoulder for support. It was quite obvious that she already knew what James was about to say.

"I'm going to tell you what I've wanted to tell you for some time now," he started, finally, sighing, "but are you sure you want Chloe to…"

"She stays," said Rachel. She forced herself to look her father in his eyes. "Chloe stays," she repeated. For her part, Chloe looked a little unsure, but her resolve strengthened when she felt Rachel take her hand in her own.

"I'm here for you," Chloe whispered, and Rachel nodded, squeezing her hand. Across the room, James looked up at his wife and they smiled, before he looked back at his daughter.

"So," he began, and Rachel swallowed nervously, "in every way that matters, Rachel, Rose is my wife and your mother. She has loved you, raised you, nurtured you, taught you… the person you are now is down to Rose's influence. However, the woman you saw at the Overlook, her name is Sera. She is… she's…" he faltered slightly and Chloe saw Rose's hand tighten on his shoulder. "She's the woman that gave birth to you," he said. "Not Rose."

"The…"

"I'm going to tell you everything," he said. "Everything I've shielded from you for so long." He paused. "Are you sure you want to hear this, Rachel? The truth can be hard to deal with."

Rachel looked at Chloe, who nodded. "I'm here with you," she whispered.

"Good," said Rachel. "I need you." She turned back to her father. "I'm ready," she said. "Tell me everything. Leave nothing out."

"To properly tell the story, I need to go back in time," he said. "You'll have heard the first part of the story many times. It's the age-old love story that so clichéd that it's actually a shock when it actually happens to you. In high school, there's always one girl that everyone adores. The teachers, the other students, she is very popular, very pretty, everyone's favourite…"

"… sounds familiar," said Chloe, looking across at Rachel.

"… indeed, and the irony is certainly not lost on me," said James. "Anyway, when you're in school, there's always one girl like that. Now, then… but she's usually totally untouchable to us mere mortals." He chuckled. "Every girl wanted to be her, every boy wanted to be with her," he continued. "And then there was me. Nothing special about me. I was a high school student like all the others, probably a little more hard-working than some, but I was like the other boys. I had a crush on her. I also knew I had no chance… she was so far out of my league…"

"… don't sell yourself short, dear," said Rose. "You were handsome then, just as you are now." At this, Rachel grimaced but stayed silent.

"… however, out of everyone, and I mean pretty much everyone, she picked me. I didn't know why, I was high in the clouds that she'd picked me. In some ways, I think perhaps that's one reason I was blind for so long to who she really was." He laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh. "She was… perfect to me. She was beautiful, she was passionate, she was _so_ alive." He sighed. "Being with her was like, it was like riding a cloud made of dreams. The ride was so fast I couldn't get off, even if I'd wanted to. But eventually the ride slowed down. And when it di I was able to see reality for the first time in a long time." He sighed again. "I wasn't enough for her, I realised that. I never was. The rest of us were out looking for… you know, careers, college, families… money… but Sera wasn't looking for any of that."

"James…"

"It's okay, Rose," he said. "The story needs to be told now, she deserves to know who she was. Who _I_ was." He turned back to Rachel. "Sera was looking for… I think 'escape' sums it up perfectly. Escape from… reality, from life, for the harsh mundane that she perceived as her existence. And she found that escape… through chemical means."

"Weed?" said Chloe, somewhat hopefully, but James shook his head sadly.

"No," he said. "To start off, probably, you're right, I mean, I guess a lot of people smoked weed back in the day, same as today. However, looking back, the signs were there early on, I guess, but as I alluded to earlier, I was blind to it all. When we went out, when we… stayed in, she was probably high, but I didn't know. I didn't want to know. I didn't want to get off the ride, it was like riding a dream, so exhilarating, so... but later, like with everything, it wasn't enough for her, so she started searching for the next high and her quest led her to the needle." He nodded to Rachel. "Then we received the best news we've ever had. She told me she was pregnant with you, Rachel," he continued, his voice brighter as he remembered. "I was over the moon. I mean, it was everything I wanted. And, looking back, I thought it would solve everything. Having you in her future, in her life, would give her focus, something to look forward to, something to love. And it did. For a little while." He smiled. "Becoming your father was the greatest moment of my life, Rachel." He sighed. "Unfortunately, it was not for Sera. There was so much love, for you, for Sera, but… but I was still blind." He began to tear up. "I refused to see what was right there in front of me. I thought she was ill, I thought maybe she was depressed, post-natal or whatever they call it." He hung his head. "She was great at hiding it. I never even suspected the truth. She would disappear for hours at a time, but I rationalised it all. I was so in love with her… and you, my beautiful baby daughter, that I rationalised it all."

"I… don't remember," said Rachel, her eyes tearing up as well, and James nodded along with her.

"You were so young, you wouldn't remember," he said. "When people are… ill, like Sera was, they learn to hide everything. You were… so young, so beautiful. Then, one day she got careless. You needed changing, and you were crying. You were upstairs with her. I came home to hear you crying, louder and louder without stopping." He stopped and looked down. "I still didn't really register that something was terribly wrong, but when you didn't stop crying I went upstairs to investigate. I found… I found her… passed out on the floor. You were nearby, crying incessantly." He stopped and took a breath. "It was when I saw the tourniquet on her arm and the needle on the floor near her hand that reality hit me like a truck hitting a car." At this statement, Chloe started but managed to calm herself quickly. Neither James nor Rose noticed, but she felt Rachel's hand tighten on hers momentarily. "My world suddenly stopped turning. She _was_ ill, but not in the way I'd imagined," he continued. "I saw her… for who she really was." He inhaled deeply and was obviously fighting back tears. "She was a destructive person. Self-destructive, but it had spilled over to you as well." His voice began to break. "She was a slave to the needle, as so many are. I've seen so many people since, especially in my current role, who are similarly enslaved… so many people. If I knew then what I know now… maybe I could have… but I could only see someone who could never be satisfied by anyone, or anything. Not even the love of her own daughter." He began openly crying and Rose bent over, consoling her husband. "I was desperate, I didn't know what to do. So… so I made a choice. She was never going to hurt you ever again."

"Dad…"

"It's okay, Rachel," he said, calming down. "I've needed to tell this story for a long time now." He paused. "I've needed to tell _you_." He exhaled slowly, looked up at Rose and then back at Rachel. "What you saw at the Overlook, Rachel was… yes, it's true, we kissed. It was the saddest kiss of my life."

"It was a kiss goodbye?" asked Rose, and James nodded.

"Exactly," he said. "She'd come back to Arcadia with one purpose in mind, but I told her that it couldn't be. She said she was clean, that she'd been sober for over a year, but it didn't change a thing. I told her that I was happy for her, that she felt like she'd gotten her life together… finally. But she didn't get to decide one day to be a mother again." He paused. "Not after what she'd done. Not after all the people she'd hurt, all the lives she'd destroyed. I told her she'd been given the greatest gift in the world… the chance to be your mother." He sighed. "And that she'd squandered it." He paused again, this time for a long time before he was able to continue. "It pained me, Rachel, to speak to her like that, to… hurt her. But, to keep you safe, I'd do it again and again."

"That was the first time you'd seen her in, what, fifteen years?"

"Not… exactly," said James, looking down at his feet. "I send her money every month, to… it's our arrangement." Rose looked sadly at her husband and sat down behind him.

"You said she came back with one purpose in mind," said Rachel. "She wanted to see me. Right?"

"Yes," he said, "but Rachel, it cannot be."

"Why not?" said Chloe, and James looked at her in confusion. "I mean, why not? Everyone deserves a second chance, right?"

"Chloe, you don't understand," said James. "Sera had… way more than her fair share of second chances. She had so many last chances I lost count. And she squandered each and every one of them."

"But shouldn't that be a decision for Rachel to make? What if she wants to meet her mother? Uh, no offence, Mrs Amber," she added, and Rose nodded.

"None taken," she said.

"Chloe, drug addiction is a disease. It doesn't just affect the addict, Chloe. It can affect those around the addict, family, friends." He paused. "Forgive the analogy, but let's say you were a drug addict." Rachel and Chloe exchanged a quick glance. "It wouldn't just be you affected by your addiction and behaviour. It would be your mother, your father… step-father, your friends, all those that love you. If you were a mother, it would affect your child or children as well. Everyone around you would experience the symptoms. Rachel, I… I can't… I couldn't… allow you to be victimised by her disease again."

"Mr Amber, you love Rachel, I can see that," said Chloe. "And the fact that you want to protect her, I… that's an awesome quality. But I believe Rachel needs a say in this as well. She could still meet her and decide for herself."

"Yeah, the fact that she's here must say something," said Rachel. "Didn't you say she was better?"

"She said she's been sober for a while now, yes," conceded James. "But don't forget I know her far better than you do. I've seen this sort of manipulative behaviour in her too many times before. She promises the world and delivers none of it. Time and time again. And don't forget that drug addicts never get better. They're addicts all their life, no matter what they say. And don't forget that, for fifteen years, she's preferred money over seeing you, Rachel." Rachel's eyes widened and her shoulders began to heave.

"Rachel…" began Chloe, but Rachel stood up. Her eyes were glistening and there were definite tear-streaks down her cheeks.

"I think I need to lie down," she said, her voice weak. "Thanks for… being honest. Even if it took you fifteen years." She shuffled slowly across the room, her head bent over. Both James and Rose stood with her but didn't follow. The sight of her climbing the stairs, so slowly putting one foot in front of the other brought tears to Chloe's eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. Just before Chloe heard the door close upstairs, she heard Rachel break down completely and begin sobbing loudly. James and Rose sat back down, but just at that moment Chloe's phone decided to buzz. Automatically she unlocked it.

 _DANA: [Rachel and Chloe where r u? We're at the Tempest wrap party!]_

 _JULIET: [C'mon guys. I already texted Rachel like eight times]_

 _CHLOE: [Yeah, I don't think we'll be making the party guys, sorry]_

 _DANA: [Chloe! You should be here. Come on!]_

 _HAYDEN: [Yeah, Chloe, come on. You did awesome tonight. Bring Rachel]_

 _BROOKE: [Hi Chloe. Must admit, I was impressed. Great job tonight]_

 _CHLOE: [Thanks for the offer guys, but we really can't, I'm sorry]_

 _DANA: [You totally saved us tonight]_

 _JULIET: [Dana's right. Without you there would have been no show at all]_

 _DANA: [Seriously, just come]_

 _HAYDEN: [Bring Rachel]_

 _CHLOE: [Sorry guys]_

 _DANA: [You don't know what u'r missing]_

 _CHLOE: [Sorry guys, I really am, but we can't]_

 _HAYDEN: [No Rachel tonight? Aw man, I was looking forward to chillin' with her]_

 _JULIET: {Hayden, put it away. You sure, Chloe? We do really want you here, you deserve it after saving my ass tonight]_

 _HAYDEN: [Bring Rachel]_

 _JULIET: [Hayden, really? Come on]_

 _CHLOE: [Sorry, look, I'd love to and I know Rachel would too, but we're… something's come up, we can't make it. We'll see you next week, k?]_

 _DANA: [Ok Chloe, cya on Monday. Hope everything works out]_

 _CHLOE: [Yeah, me too. Thanks for the support guys. I actually really enjoyed myself tonight]_

 _JULIET: [You were ace]_

Chloe locked her phone back up and looked at Rachel's parents. James was as stoic as ever, but Rose looked close to tears. "This can't be easy for you either, Mr Amber," she said.

"It could be far worse," said James, sighing. "It's been my biggest fear that Rachel would find out about Sera and try to meet her. I've… dreaded it."

"Is that why you never told her?"

"Partly. You have no idea what pain Sera has caused, Chloe."

"Do you blame her for what happened?" James thought about the question but shook his head.

"No, I don't," he said. "I did for a while, but then I realised… Sera wasn't really responsible for what she did. She was a slave to the drug, she didn't really have a choice." He shook his head again. "Her addiction led her to do terrible things. I… I really don't want Rachel to go through any of that."

"But… shouldn't that be up to Rachel?"

"Do you know any heroin addicts, Chloe?"

"Um, not exactly," she said, carefully. "Why?"

"You know I met Sera yesterday. And you know what happened between us. I believed her, Chloe," said James. "When we were talking, when she was telling me about how she was getting her life together, how she was sober. I could feel my resolve fading, Chloe," he continued. "But I know, I know that it's just a passing fad. She'll meet Rachel, and they'll bond, but it's just a novelty to her. I don't want Rachel to go through the pain of rejection, because as sure as night follows day, Sera will leave again when she needs her next fix. Or she'll use Rachel to get to me for more money."

Chloe nodded. "I know all about rejection, unfortunately," she said. "But still…"

"Rachel is… determined and curious," James said. "I know that. She's always going to want to know more and more."

"That I can believe," said Chloe. "If she wants to know something…"

"She won't be concerned about her own safety. She never has been." James stopped talking and looked directly at Chloe. "Uh, Chloe, I owe you an apology for my outburst earlier. Would you please forgive me?"

"Um…"

"I believe Rachel trusts you more than anyone else right now," he said, carefully, and Chloe frowned as the penny dropped.

"Is this where you ask me to manipulate her into doing what you want?" she asked, and James shook his head.

"No, I'd never ask that of you," he said, holding his hands up. "I _would_ ask you, however, to put Rachel's safety first, however. Please don't allow her to get into a situation she can't get out of, or one that will cause her pain."

"Maybe… try the truth for a change?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you did lie to her for fifteen years," said Chloe, and James nodded.

"This is true. And that's why I need your help. Chloe, I only care about Rachel. You know how much I love my daughter."

Chloe sighed in resignation. "I'll do what I can, Mr Amber. I care about her too, y'know?"

"I know. Thank you, Chloe."

"I agree, James," said Rose, speaking up. "Thank you, Chloe. I'm… really glad that you're here, you know."

"Thanks… but why?" said Chloe.

"Because Rachel needs a good friend while she deals with all of this. It's a relief that she has you to talk to." She shook her head. "But where's my manners? How are _you_ doing, Chloe?"

"How do you mean? How am I doing?" said Chloe.

"I may be Rachel's mother, but I was a teenager once, too, you know. This must be pretty awkward, I'd imagine," said Rose. "This probably isn't the situation you expected to be in earlier today."

"I'm fine, Mrs Amber…"

"… Rose, please, Chloe. I think we're past Mrs Amber now."

"Um, okay, Rose," said Chloe. "As I said, I'm fine. It's Rachel who's hurting."

"She has every reason to."

"Um, Rose, how long have you known?"

"There are many painful things about Rachel's past, Chloe," said Rose. "Including my own role in hiding the truth. I've known… I've known all the time. Since James and I were… well, I'm sure you can guess."

"Doesn't matter how painful it is," said Chloe. "You don't lie to someone you love. Even if it's done with the best of intentions, as I'm sure this was, lying to someone, or hiding the truth from them never ends well. Believe me, I know."

"I guess so. But when it's you, you always think it'll be different, don't you? Can any of us really know what we'd do in that situation? James has been a devoted father for fifteen years. He really loves Rachel and always has her best interests at heart. More than anything in his life. More than his career. More than… me."

"That sounds harsh, love," said James. "Don't put yourself down. You and Rachel are my family. My… life."

"I can see that," said Chloe. "But Mrs… Rose, I'm surprised you're defending him after what he did at the Overlook."

"It might be hard for you to understand, Chloe, but after thirteen years of marriage, I'm not threatened by what happened. I know who Sera is, and what she is to this family. I also know what she isn't. And a threat she is not."

"You're right. I don't understand," said Chloe, and James snorted.

"You don't have to worry about me," continued Rose. "Or James. Rachel's the one who needs you right now, Chloe."

"Do you think Sera is dangerous?" asked Chloe. "I mean, she's…"

"I've never met her, so… I don't know. But I'm inclined to trust my husband. His entire life is about keeping people safe. Rachel's extremely fortunate to have him as her father. Why do you ask?"

"Oh nothing really, I mean I saw…" Chloe broke off what she was saying, but it was too late.

"You saw her?" broke in James. "When?"

"Um…" Chloe mentally cursed herself for her slip of the tongue. "It was nothing. I'm not even sure it was her," she said, trying to backpedal, but there was no going back now.

"Chloe…" said James. "Please, you just lectured me on telling the truth. If you saw Sera, I need to know about it."

"Well, we saw her at the Overlook, yeah," said Chloe, "but I've seen her twice since. Once at the concert tonight."

"She was at Blackwell?" said Rose. "Oh my…"

"Did she talk to Rachel?" asked James.

"No, she was watching at the back. She left as we were taking our bows," said Chloe. "I don't think Rachel saw her."

"And the other time?"

"I'm not sure it was her, but I'm sure I saw her coming out of…" Chloe faltered. "I shouldn't be saying this…"

"Chloe…"

"Oh, alright," said Chloe, resigned. "She was coming out of Frank's RV down by the junkyard."

"Frank… Bowers?" said James, suddenly more interested.

"That's him."

"Who's that?" asked Rose.

"A nobody," said James. "Local misfit and…" James paused. "Drug dealer."

"Sera visited a drug dealer?" said Rose, aghast. "But you said she was sober!"

" _Exactly_!" said James. "That's what she told me! Didn't I say she couldn't be trusted." He turned back to Chloe. "Does Rachel know you saw Sera and the dealer together?"

"No," said Chloe, shaking her head. "I didn't tell her that."

"Right."

"Does she need to know?" asked Rose.

"It might… I don't know yet," said James. "Chloe, don't let on just yet, okay?"

"Keep it secret?" frowned Chloe. "I thought we…"

"No, just… refrain from mentioning it. Rachel… might get the wrong idea, plus I need to look into it first. If she is being supplied by Frank Bowers… this could change everything…" He looked at Chloe with an intensity she found hard to resist. "Please Chloe, don't tell Rachel this. Not yet." Chloe nodded.

"Thanks Chloe, for telling us this," said Rose. "We are so glad that you and Rachel are such good friends."

"Thank you."

"Why don't you go up and see how she's doing?" said Rose. "I'm sure she needs your company and support."

"That was my exact thought," said Chloe, smiling and walking to the stairs. "Be right back…" As she climbed the stairs James stood up.

"I'll be in my office, Rose," he said, "there's a few things I need to do."


	32. Under the Tree

Sera Gearhardt hastily wrapped her coat around her shoulders and shivered. The May air wasn't cold, but she was certainly feeling it. It was probably her nervousness, she surmised. She was walking quickly to what could turn out to be the most important meeting she would have ever have in her life.

She looked around, trying to get her bearings. It had been a long time since she'd been in Arcadia Bay, let alone the park, but she recognised the landmarks and made her way towards the meeting.

"Would have preferred a nice coffee shop," she muttered to herself as she walked, "but no, he had to insist on the park." She wrapped the coat around her shoulders again, trying in vain to stop the shivering. As she entered the grounds of the park, a wave of nostalgia washed over her and she had to stop for a moment to process it.

Around fifteen years ago, she had met up with James Amber at the same spot. Their spot. Under the tree. Where many happy memories had been made. But it wasn't a happy meeting. Not this time.

…

"You can't do this!" cried Sera, tears streaming down her face. "I want to see her!"

"You think I want to?" said James. He was also crying. "You think I want to deprive my daughter of her mother. But look at you!"

"I can change, James!"

"No. You can't. You won't," he said, pulling himself together and steeling his will. "You've promised me so many times that you'll change. I can stop, you said. I'll stop, you said. But you never do. You just go right back to the needle, Sera."

"But this time…"

"… will be different? Yeah. Heard that one too. So many times," said James. "Do you know how many last chances I've given you? Do you even care?"

"Of _course_ I care!" screamed Sera. "I love you. I love my daughter."

"You might think that," he said, sadly, "but you don't. You love one thing and one thing only, Sera. I'm sorry." He turned to go.

" _James_!" screamed Sera, and he turned back to her.

"This is the only way," he said. "Let me know your new address and I'll send the cheques there." He walked away from her, leaving her sobbing on the grass. He didn't look back.

…

Sera brushed away a tear as she remembered the conversation. She'd stopped shivering; she was now feeling the heat of the sun and she quickened her pace. She felt each step beneath her feet as she made her way through the winding paths to her goal. She reached the tree with a few minutes to spare and she took her coat off, placing it on the ground by the tree. She was dressed in a simple, plain white dress that had taken a couple of hours to select; she wanted to ensure she made the best possible impression when she saw her former lover again. She walked around in circles for a few minutes, going through all the possible scenarios in her head that she'd prepared for. Even though her heart was pounding, she forced herself to control her breathing.

A quarter of an hour passed before she saw James approaching. He looked harassed and was walking quickly. As he reached her he smiled, although it was a smile that never quite reached his eyes.

"Sera," he said.

"James," she replied. There was a long, uncomfortable silence, then both started speaking together. They stopped and coughed nervously before James started speaking once more.

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "Got caught up with a case this morning, you know how it is." He nodded. "Good to see you, Sera," he continued. "You're looking…"

"… older?" she said. "Wiser?"

"… good," he said. "You're looking good." He smiled again. "But then, you always did."

"Not always, James," she said. "You've seen me at my worst."

"This is true," he acknowledged, "but you are looking well. Far better than… well, you know."

"Yes," she said. "I've been clean over a year now."

"That's… admirable," he said. "Well done." Their conversation, while friendly was definitely clipped and awkward.

"That's basically why I'm here now," she said.

"Sera, we talked about this before," he said.

"You know I've been working towards this," she said. "I haven't been taking your hush-money; I've been working on getting myself clean and financially independent. And I've achieved that."

"Both of which are very admirable, to be sure," he said, but Sera shook her head.

"Come on, James," she said. "You know as well as I do that's not why I did it."

"Sera, you can't…"

"… just hear me out, please?" she said. The conversation wasn't going as well as she'd planned; she needed to get it back on track.

"Okay, I'll listen," said James. "Talk quick." Sera took a deep breath.

"Okay," she started. "I know the sort of person I used to be back when we were together," she said. "I know I was… well, let's say unreliable, I think about covers it…"

"… doesn't come close…"

"… okay, but I'm trying to be positive here, James," she continued. "I know who I was, I know the sort of person I came across as then, and it wasn't a nice person. What I did to Rachel was… wrong. It was very wrong, and I can't get away from the fact that I was a slave to another master. But I've beaten that slavery," she said. "I've realised the sort of person I was and I've changed into the person you see here today." She took another deep breath. "I've missed out on fifteen years of being a mother. I know I can't change that. I was angry at you for the longest time," she continued. "I thought I hated you for taking Rachel away from me, but that wasn't true. I hated myself for forcing you to do what you did." Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke. "I didn't like what you did, James, but I think you did the right thing. It's taken over a decade to realise that, and more years to actually do something about it. But I'm here. Now. Clean. I've been clean for over a year. I'm financially independent. I'm… ready."

"Ready for what? Rachel already has a mother," said James.

"I know. I can't be her mother. It's too late for that," said Sera. "I'm not here to replace your wife, I won't do that…"

"… you can't do that," said James. "What do you want, Sera?"

"I'd like the opportunity to make amends," she said. "I'd like to see Rachel, talk to her. Meet her. Reconnect. I'm sure she'll want to see me, too. Not to be her mother, but to be her… I don't know, friend?" She smiled. "I've been working towards the point where I can be a part of her life again, in whatever capacity she wants."

"I don't think that's going to be possible," said James. "You see, Rachel doesn't want to see you."

"What?"

"You heard me," he said. "It was a mistake coming here, Sera. You no longer belong here."

"I came here to see my…"

"Rachel is no longer a part of your life, or your responsibility," he said. "You had the greatest thing in the world in your grasp, but you squandered it. I, however, have loved and cherished her, as has my wife. Rachel has a mother and a father, she doesn't want another."

"She said that?"

"She did," said James, not once taking his eyes off Sera.

"She never responded to my letters," said Sera. "I thought perhaps you…"

"She never wanted to respond," he said. "She never once gave me any indication that she wanted to get to know you. She doesn't want to know you. She doesn't want to meet you. She doesn't want to talk to you. Do you understand me?"

"That can't be right," said Sera, beginning to cry. "She wouldn't…"

"Thank you for coming all this way," said James. He closed the gap and embraced his former lover. After a moment, he kissed her. "I'm proud of what you've achieved, kicking a habit like that is profoundly admirable," he whispered into her ear. "But I'm afraid your journey was for naught. I'm sorry, it's not my decision. It's… Rachel's." He broke off the embrace as Sera continued to sob and he walked away. "Fifteen years ago, I had to give you some bad news under this tree," he said, turning his head back. "I'm sorry that I can't be more positive this time. Have a safe journey home."

He didn't look back.


	33. Consolation

"Rache?" Chloe knocked softly on her door and, when she didn't answer, opened the door slowly and slipped inside.

It was the first time Chloe had set foot in Rachel's bedroom, and, even considering the plans they'd made to jump ship and escape, if she was honest with herself (which was something that was happening more and more these past few days, to her surprise), she was hoping it wouldn't be the last time.

The room was decorated in a typical teenager-style, that is to say, looking completely chaotic but with probably some master-plan attached. There were plenty of photographs and posters adorning the walls, and a lovely star light shining brightly over the rest of the room, which was bathed in a dim violet hue from a globe nightlight lit near her desk. Rachel herself was lying on the bed, sobbing quietly, not even acknowledging that Chloe was in the room.

"Rache?" whispered Chloe. When Rachel didn't answer, she tried again. "Rache?"

"Go away," murmured her friend.

"Sorry, not gonna happen," said Chloe. "Remember? Friends don't quit."

"Really?" said Rachel, raising her head and looking at Chloe with a tear-streaked face. "A Scooby-doo reference. Now?"

"Thirty points," smiled Chloe, "and I made you smile." She nodded to the bed. "May I?"

"Knock yourself out," said Rachel, and Chloe sat next to her friend. After a moment, she reached out and stroked Rachel's hair gently, then quickly removed her hand when Rachel shivered.

"Sorry," she said, but Rachel shook her head.

"No, don't stop," said Rachel. "That was… nice." Chloe raised an eyebrow and reached out once more. As her hand began stroking again, Rachel sighed and wriggled a little on the bed to give Chloe more space. A few minutes later, she spoke again. "Chloe?" she murmured.

"Mmm-hmm?" said Chloe, still concentrating on stroking her hair.

"Do you love your mom?"

"Of course I do, Rache," she said. "I mean, I treat her like shit sometimes, but I always love her."

"What if she wasn't your mom? What if she was just someone you thought was your mom, someone you thought you loved? But you were wrong?"

"Rache, I can't imagine what you're going through at the moment," said Chloe, softly, "but I'm here for you. I guess you need to know that. I mean, I know we haven't known each other all that long, but…"

"Thanks Chloe," she interrupted. "I'm glad you're here."

"Yeah. I'm sorry, I know I'm babbling," said Chloe, smiling gently, knowing Rachel couldn't see her. She continued stroking her friend's hair. "But I was thinking. I mean, who is your mom though, Rache?" she asked, after a pause for thought. "I mean, okay, for me it's Joyce and only Joyce. But for you… I mean Sera may have actually given birth to you, but Rose brought you up, right? Surely that counts for something."

"And lied to me all my life," said Rachel.

"Well, yeah," conceded Chloe. "There is that one, too."

"As things go, it's kind of a big one," said Rachel, "wouldn't you agree?"

"I would concede as much," said Chloe. "However, there are other considerations to take into account."

"Such as?"

"Well," said Chloe, ticking off her fingers. "Agreed, your mom and dad lied to you. That is a big one, and deserving of much scornage. But they _did_ bring you up, teach you, nurture you and love you for your whole life. I don't think your father's love is in question here."

"Go on," said Rachel. "I'm listening."

"Looking at things from his point of view, he was doing it for the best of intentions. If he's telling the truth, then it is possible that Sera wasn't able to give you the love and care that you needed."

"And?"

"And… how do you tell your daughter that her birth mother wasn't able, willing, delete as appropriate, to take care of you? I mean, how do you _actually_ go about telling your daughter that? You can see, from a certain point of view, they were just protecting you. And I guess that, as time goes on, it becomes more and more difficult to broach the subject. So they may have been caught in their own trap?"

"It's possible," conceded Rachel, "and don't think I didn't notice the Star Wars reference in there, Price. That's worth at least fifty points, I think."

"Technically… no, I'm afraid not," said Chloe, smiling. "Return of the Jedi. Not Star Wars. No points. Nul point!"

Rachel growled, then turned serious again. "Look, I know you're just thinking around the subject, and you do make a good point, but I still can't get around the fact that I should have been told about this years ago!"

"I agree, Rache," said Chloe, "But the fact is, you weren't. You can cry and scream about it now, but that won't change anything. And," she continued, "if you'd have bee told about it years ago, you wouldn't have me here to support you as you work through the emotions." She smiled, and Rachel smiled back. It was infectious. "Wait here," she said, getting up off the bed. She'd noticed Rachel's nightlight was quite dim, so she took the top off the flashlight on Rachel's desk and inserted it into the nightlight. Setting the light on the middle of the floor and turning it on, she smiled as the room was filled with violet light and stars.

"Beautiful," breathed Rachel, and Chloe once again joined her on the bed.

"Yes, it is," she said.

"I wasn't talking about that," said Rachel, smiling. "However, the light is lovely. Thank you."

"I thought you might like it," she said.

"I've always loved stars."

"How come?"

"Whenever I'm feeling down, I just look at them and they remind me just how much beauty is out there, if we only look for it."

"Difficult to look for it when we are blinded by the beauty in front of us," said Chloe, smiling, and Rachel smiled back.

"Exactly," she said, but then her face fell. "But then I learned the truth. The stars I was seeing have already burned out. They've been dead for millions of years. They're all… lies."

"Does that make them any less beautiful?"

"Doesn't matter. If they're not real, then what's the point? They're all lies. It's all lies. My life… everything." Rachel began sobbing again and Chloe put her arm around her friend. "My life, my entire… my dad… mom… if I can even call her than any more. And that other woman, my… real mom. She's the biggest lie of all. I can't trust any of them, Chloe." She looked up. "I think you're the only one in the world I can trust right now."

"That I will take, gladly," said Chloe, gently, "even if it's only by process of elimination." Rachel turned over to lie on her back, holding up her arm to the light.

"I've worn this bracelet my entire life," she said, "like I said last… night?"

"Yeah."

"Seems like longer," she said. "I never even asked why, never thought about it. Just wore it. With pride. I don't know, somehow, I think perhaps I always knew something wasn't quite right. Even when I didn't know. That my real mother was gone."

"Rache, don't say that," said Chloe. "Rose loves you, I can see that. I think I get that you're conflicted…"

"… conflicted? Seriously, you have no idea!"

"… I know I don't, but I'm trying here, Rachel, I'm trying to be your friend. It's… look, it's not easy, okay? I haven't had a friend like you for so long I'm always terrified I'm going to fuck it up…"

"… you're doing pretty well so far, Price…"

"… and I just want to be here for you. I don't think it's fair to call Sera your real mother."

"Really?"

"Really, Rache. Sera gave birth to you, Rose brought you up. Both of those are real things, both contributed to who you are and the fact that you exist at all. If you call Sera your real mother, you invalidate everything that Rose has done for you, and Rose has loved you like her own child, hasn't she?" Rachel didn't answer, so Chloe pressed on. "You _do_ love her, don't you?"

"I… I guess so," she murmured, "it's just…"

"… hard, yeah? Look, Rache," said Chloe, "you have people who love you. I know you're struggling with that at the moment, and I'm here for you, but what about this for a suggestion? Sera is your birth mother. That way she gets legit, and Rose gets a bit of love as well." She paused. "And, as much as I hate to say it, perhaps you can cut your father a little slack as well. I know he's made mistakes, he knows that and he knows he'll be paying for that in the future, but it's clear he did what he did because he loves you so much." Rachel was quiet for a while, processing what Chloe said, nodding from time to time. Suddenly she started and turned over to face Chloe.

"Sera… she's here? In Arcadia?"

"That's what your father said."

"She came to Arcadia… she came to see… me? I think… I think I need to see her," said Rachel, visibly conflicted. "Is that wrong?"

"Honestly? I've no idea what's right or wrong right now," said Chloe. "All I know is that you have my support. Whatever you decide, I'm in. I'm with you, Rache."

"Thanks Chloe," said Rachel, smiling. "I really am lucky you're here."

"So am I," said Chloe.

"How do I find her, though?" asked Rachel. "I mean, it's not like I can ask my dad. I've no idea where to start."

"Let me handle it," said Chloe.

"Really?"

"Really," repeated Chloe, smiling slightly. "Let me handle it."

"Mysterious much?" said Rachel, giggling a little. "I like it." Her face dropped. "Although we've no way to get to her either."

"Don't worry, got that covered too," said Chloe.

"You do?"

"Yup."

"Chloe Price, you are full of mystery today," said Rachel. "It's turning me… it's… I like it."

"You bet," said Chloe. "In fact, I reckon that anything you can come up with today, I can handle it." She paused. "That's not a dare, though," she added in a stage whisper, then turning back to her normal voice, "it's like I said to the bouncer the other night, who, by the way, was a lot scarier than your mom could ever be, there could be a flamethrower, an army of robot ninja-wolves, a motherfucking dragon on a leash, or even a doppleganger of my mom between you and her, and I would still find a way to get you there."

"You are sounding so empowered right now," said Rachel, her voice low and husky. "Chloe-fucking-Price, my magical Shakespeare fairy. Jesus, you're making me feel so…"

"Shut up!" said Chloe, but Rachel just reached out and pulled Chloe in for a deep kiss.

"I love it when you take charge," she murmured as they broke apart. "It's… exciting."

"I… um," faltered Chloe. "Thank you."

"You're cute when you get flustered," said Rachel, grinning. "There's just one thing."

"Which is?"

"When I meet her… how will I talk to her? I mean, what would I say?"

"Rachel, listen to me," said Chloe, reaching out to stroke her friend's hair, "after my dad died, I was worried I wouldn't know how to talk to him anymore. But somehow, when we speak, I always know what to say. And it'll be the same for you. You'll know."

"When you speak?"

"In my dreams," said Chloe, patting the side of her head. "He's here, and it's so real. It's almost like it's another part of my life, sometimes I even thought it was the only part of my life that mattered." She grinned. "I'm not crazy, if you're thinking that…"

"… totally wasn't thinking that…"

"… but it's real to me. I've… you're the first person I've ever told that."

"I'm honoured…"

"… so you should be."

"I was thinking," said Rachel, shuffling closer to hold Chloe tightly, "maybe not all the stars are dead after all. And even the ones that are, if we can still see them, then that means they're real to us, right?"

"Right." The two girls leaned in for a kiss goodnight before falling asleep in each other's arms.

…

"… sitting out here listening to the wind / I just called to tell you that I miss you, my old friend / burning the midnight oil again…"

 _That's…_

"… last year we bought a house outside of Boulder / you know how Kathy always missed that rocky mountains sky / she said 'let's move before my folks get any older / so they can see the grandkids grow up for a while'…"

Chloe opened her eyes to find she was lying on a chair on the Tempest stage from the show. She looked down as she struggled to her feet to see she was wearing her Ariel costume.

 _Aw crap, not this thing again. I look like a demented blue… prancy thing. Not cool._

"… I was just thinking of the days we ran together / travellin' 'cross the country in that rusty camper van / playing one night stands seems like it's been forever / sittin' here like this sometimes I miss the band…"

William was there too, sitting on a chair in front of her and slightly to the left, both hands on an invisible steering wheel. He was making driving motions and singing along to the familiar song.

"Dad?"

"Oh hi there, sweetie," he said, turning around to look at Chloe but keeping his hand on the 'wheel', "you're awake. Good-o."

Chloe blinked and looked around. The floodlights meant that Chloe couldn't see much off-stage, it was too dark. She could make out many people sitting quietly in the audience. The front row, however was fully recognisable. David, Joyce, Principal Wells, Victoria Chase, James and Rose Amber were all sitting, arms folded, watching Chloe with an intensity in their gaze that made her feel uncomfortable. Next to them, sitting on one of the chairs was the raven, looking directly at with its piercing, unblinking eyes. Chloe quickly looked away from them.

"Dad?" she said, "I think we're stuck." She looked around. "There are certainly lots of people watching." Her father continued to look ahead and move the wheel. Chloe smiled. "Maybe you should let me drive for once, Dad. You always do it wrong."

"Always?" said William. "That was one time, Chloe! When are you going to let it go?" There was a smattering of polite laughter around the audience at his comment, a little like the old canned laughter Chloe used to see on old sitcoms. "Remember when we used to work on cars together, Chloe?" he said, and for a second his image shuddered, as if it were a television signal receiving interference, and was replaced by David. "Those are some of my favourite memories, Chloe."

"We never… that wasn't you," said Chloe.

"Really? Coulda sworn that was me," said William, his image still shuddering and changing into, and back from, David.

"You're dead. I don't think you can remember anything after that."

"Touché," said William, smiling. He turned the 'wheel' and the car made a spluttering sound. "Well, it looks like you're right. We've stopped." He nodded to the front of the 'car'. "Why don't you go take a look?" He leant his arm on the 'window'.

"Sure?" said Chloe, and William nodded. Chloe opened the 'door' and got out of the car, closing the 'door' behind her. She walked around the front of the car. "Can you pop the hood, Dad?" He did so and Chloe lifted it up, peering inside. "Ugh," she said, squinting her eyes and thinking quickly. "It looks…"

"What's wrong, sweetie?" said William. "Don't you see anything wrong?"

Chloe sighed. "Fine, dad. It's… it's the spark plug."

"No, it can't be that, I just had that replaced last week."

"Then… Dad, isn't improv supposed to be about 'yes, and…' rather than just shooting me down?"

"Yes and…. what, hon?" There was a smattering of laughter again, and Chloe could see David nudge Joyce and point at her, smirking. She slammed the 'bonnet' shut and marched over to where he was sitting.

"Dad, stop it!" cried Chloe. "None of this is real! You're not real! Rachel's family isn't real. This whole thing… it's all fake, it's just theatre!"

"Well, you know what William Shakespeare said, don't you?"

"Something about all the world's a stage, so act the fuck out of it? Or maybe the one about the stories told by idiots, full of sound and fury, signifying fuck-all?"

"Exactly. You nailed it, sweetheart."

"I did? Which one did you mean?"

"Yes," said William, to the sound of more canned laughter.

"C'mon Dad, gimme a break," said Chloe. "I'm really trying here, and you're not really helping."

"Hmm," said her father. "Well, maybe there's something about why we all pretend. Isn't life just a series of improvisations? Maybe the lies we tell each other are less horrible than the truths we keep hidden?"

"Shit Dad, that's… pretty dark."

"Yup. Where do you think you get it from?" As he finished talking, a truck honked its horn in the distance. "Ah," said William, unbuckling his seatbelt. "That's my cue."

"Dad?"

"Relax, sweetie, it's all pretend, remember?"

"Dad?"

"Just a bit of stage magic. Floodlights." A light turned on to the side of them. "Sound effects." The truck honked its horn again. Beside the car, Chloe was breathing quickly, knowing what was coming. "Chloe," said her father. "Chloe, look at me," he continued, urgently. "Look at me, sweetie, it's going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay." As he spoke, a huge green truck with bright headlights roared into view and hit the 'car', sending chairs flying around the stage. Chloe was knocked to the floor as she screamed her father's name. He was gone, invisible as the car he was in, and Chloe was left on her knees in front of the broken chairs, sobbing at the streak of blood on the stage where her father had been sitting.

"Dad! Don't go!"


	34. Back Home

The road was silent, and Chloe took a quick look around before quickly and quietly running across to her house. In a swift, practised motion, she swung herself up onto the part-roof and opened her window, climbing inside. Once in, she shut the window and flopped onto her bed, listening for any signs that her entry had been clocked. A few minutes passed without incident, and she sat up, grinning, pleased that her stealthy approach had remained undiscovered. However her smile didn't last long.

"What the shit?" she said to herself, as she surveyed her room. When she'd sat up, she'd noticed a few things that seemed out of place. Her room wasn't the tidiest in the world, but, unbeknownst to anyone else, there was a system to the chaos. And that system wasn't showing itself. She got up from bed and walked over to her globe, sitting serenely on the floor. She picked it up and put it back on her desk, looking around as she did so.

"Nah, this ain't right," she muttered. A couple of her drawers were open, clothes lying draped over them. Her magazines and papers were strewn haphazardly across the floor – more-so than usual. Her tin boxes were lying open, their contents obviously rifled through.

"David! That motherfucker!" she seethed, as she tidied the room, putting things back to where she wanted them to be. On a whim, she opened her closet and reached behind a pile of underwear that looked chaotically-strewn around but had actually been carefully placed. Her fingers closed around a small tin and she grinned. "Not as good as you think you are," she muttered, leaving the tin where it was.

 _Fucking no-good David fucking Fuhrer! I told mom this morning I hate people going through my shit. She's known that for ages! Does she know about this? Did she consent? Because I certainly fucking didn't!_

She struggled to control her growing anger. "Whatever," she muttered, bringing her emotions in check with a huge effort, "I don't have time to deal with this shit right now." She unlocked her phone and dialled a number, waiting as it rang out, her heart pounding.

"Price," growled the voice as the phone was answered.

"Hi Frank," she said, brightly, knowing that she had to get this conversation exactly right. She also knew that Frank would probably not be best pleased with her.

"Where's the money?" he said. "And don't fucking tell me you gave it to your mom bullshit this time."

"Yeah, uh… look Frank," said Chloe, "the situation was a lot more… complicated than you told me, okay?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I can explain, I promise. I…" Chloe gulped. "I need to ask you for a favour, okay?"

"Are you fucking off your head, Price?" he said. "You can't be serious. You _cannot_ be serious." Chloe started giggling, in spite of the situation, which only served to infuriate Frank more. "You actually laughing at me, Price?" he growled.

"Sorry Frank, no," she said, trying her best to calm down. "You just… look, it's just an in-joke."

"At my expense?"

"Not at all!" she insisted. "It's just… what you just said would have been worth twenty points. Don't worry, I wasn't making fun of you at all. Look, I need a favour, Frank. I'm sorry. I need to find that woman from yesterday. Sera." There was a long pause. "Frank?"

On the other end of the phone, he audibly sighed. "What the hell for?"

"Something… really important. Can you help? I'm trying to help a friend. It's… look, it's really important to her. I wouldn't ask otherwise."

"The girl with you at the mill?"

"Yeah." There was another long pause. "Junkyard. Two hours," he said. "Bring the fucking money."

"Sweet! Thanks man, you're a real…" Chloe realised she was talking to dead line. "That went… well, I guess. Fuck, what am I getting myself into?" She sank back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling for a while until her phone beeped. It was Rachel.

 _RACHEL: [Thanks for being there for me last night. I'm feeling a lot better this morning]_

 _CHLOE: [guess what]_

 _RACHEL: [hmm. I'm a good kisser?]_

 _CHLOE: [Not what I was going with but yeah, I'll buy that for a dollar]_

 _RACHEL: [Eugh. Never watched Robocop all the way through. Couldn't stomach it after that guy's arm was shot off]_

 _CHLOE: [? That was the best part (twenty points, by the way)! Anyway, that was like only 20m into the film]_

 _RACHEL: [Sorry for being a wuss]_

 _CHLOE: [No worries. I have the DVD, we can watch it together. If you get scared you can bury your head in my shoulders… or kiss me]_

 _RACHEL: [Whoa, forward much, Chlo?]_

 _CHLOE: [Sorry]_

 _RACHEL: [Don't be sorry. You misunderstand. I like it when you take control. You should do it more often]_

 _CHLOE: [You inspire me]_

 _CHLOE: [Anyway, we're meeting Frank at the junkyard in 2 hours]_

 _RACHEL: [Frank?]_

 _CHLOE: [My drug dealer. I think he can get us in touch with Sera]_

 _RACHEL: [For real?]_

 _CHLOE: [I think so, yes. But he'll need some persuading. That's where you'll come in]_

 _RACHEL: [Holy shit, you weren't kidding when you said you could handle it. Colour me impressed, Price]_

 _CHLOE: [I'm at my house. Grabbing tools to fix up the truck. Meet at American Rust?]_

 _RACHEL: [It's a date]_

 _Calm down, Chloe._

 _Oh, it's you again. You can just fuck off._

 _Actually, no, not this time. I was actually going to pay you a compliment._

 _Bullshit._

 _Nope, for real. I was impressed there when you suppressed your anger. I could tell you were just about ready to blow your top, just like Krakatoa. And you didn't. I was… just impressed, that's all._

 _Oh._

 _Is that all you can say? I pay you a compliment, and all I get is 'oh'?_

 _What else were you expecting?_

 _How about a 'thank you'? Just pushing the boat right out here._

 _Uh, ok. Thank you._

 _Ooo, could you do that again? I don't think I can handle that much sincerity at the same time._

 _Fuck you._

 _How eloquent you are, my dear. Anyway, back to my previous point._

 _Which was?_

 _You have two hours to kill._

 _And?_

 _You stink._

 _Oh, fuck you very much._

 _Don't be stupid, Chloe. Go shower. You need it._

Chloe reluctantly got up off the bed. She silently opened the door and slunk across the hallway to the bathroom. Wrinkling her nose and trying to control her rising anger upon seeing David's towel draped over the towel rail, she searched around for her own towel, finally finding it next to an old tub. Looking in the tub, she was instantly hit by a barrage of memories: a pirate bandanna, hoop earrings, an eyepatch, scissors, a pen and a bottle of hair dye.

 _Oh man, the pirate stuff that Max and I…_

 _You miss her, don't you?_

 _Of course I do! You know that! Doesn't stop me being mad at her._

 _You go on believing that, Chloe, but I know the truth._

 _We had that talk yesterday already._

 _I know, I know. Just… try to be honest with yourself._

 _Ok, ok! Jesus Christ, will you ever just shut up?_

Chloe looked at the hair dye in her hands. "Captain Bluebeard's hair dye," she muttered, smiling. "Max was going to make me a real pirate, but we never got around to it." She nodded, decision made. "Time to become what I was always meant to be!"

…

Getting out of the shower, she looked at herself critically in the mirror (after wiping it clear of the condensation) and grinned, picking up the bottle of hair dye once more. She didn't have the courage to dye her whole head just yet, but there _was_ something she could do. Fifteen minutes later, she looked again at herself in the mirror. One single strip of her hair on the front right was now an electric blue. It looked good. In fact, it looked _really_ good.

 _Sweet._

She headed back to her bedroom to change, this time picking out a white t-shirt with a skull design on the front to go with her dark jeans, and headed downstairs. She needed to find the tools that she could use to try and get the truck running, but first it was necessary to negotiate the minefield that was Team Madsen.

 _Fuck. Forget that phrase. Don't ever call them Team Madsen anymore._

As she climbed down the stairs, she could hear voices coming from the kitchen.

"I'm flippin' them over, Joyce," said David, chuckling.

"No! Not yet! I told you, three minutes each side, no more, no less. Can't you count?"

"They'll burn!"

"Oh, so you're the expert now, are you?" Joyce was laughing, and for a moment Chloe smiled, glad that her mother seemed to have found happiness. Then she remembered who she'd found happiness with and the smile vanished in an instant.

"I can't stand it!"

"I'm telling you, David, it'll make a mess," she said. "You know, you don't have to make me breakfast. I'd have settled for flowers."

"You cook all the time, Joyce. I want you to have a break at home." There was a pause after David finished speaking, then Joyce spoke up.

"You are one class act, David Madsen," she said, and her voice cracked slightly. Chloe tried the door to the garage, but she her stealthy ninja-skills evaded her and she failed the safety roll.

"Hey, who's there?" called David, as he and Joyce left the kitchen.

"Um, hi," said Chloe, awkwardly. All three were standing in the hallway in silence, then Joyce suddenly rushed forward and threw her arms around her daughter.

"Chloe! You're home! Thank God!" she said, and Chloe returned the hug, albeit slightly awkwardly.

"Hi mom," she said, and Joyce broke the hug and looked at her daughter.

"Your hair! When did you… was this for the play last night? I heard you performed! You should have told us, we'd have come to watch!" Joyce was talking impossibly fast, and it was all Chloe could do to keep up.

"No, I mean, yeah, I did, but this… is something different," she fumbled. "Do you… like it?"

"Your hair? It looks… different, but it suits you," said Joyce. "Reminds me of you and Max, mad about pirates. You look good, Chloe."

"Yeah, that was… I thought that…"

"And that shirt, I love it. You haven't worn it for ages, not since…"

"Yeah, I know mom," said Chloe. "I… couldn't find any clean clothes."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Chloe," said Joyce. "I… didn't think you were coming home." She put her arm around Chloe again and guided her towards the kitchen. "None of that matters now. Oh, I'm so glad to see you!"

"Chloe, it's… good to see you. Coming home was a smart decision," said David. His voice was gruff but he was making an effort.

"I'm… look, I'm not staying long. Just picking up some stuff I need," said Chloe and Joyce's face fell.

"Oh," said Joyce, as David walked back into the kitchen. "Will you… be home tonight?"

"I… don't know, mom."

"I wish you'd tell me what you're up to, Chloe. I worry about you, you know that, right?"

"I'll be fine, mom, I'm just hanging out with Rachel."

"Oh, how is she doing? I was telling David about the play and you being in it."

"Yeah, that was… unexpected," said Chloe, grinning, "but I kinda enjoyed it. Juliet couldn't get through the traffic, so I filled in for her until she got there."

"Traffic?" said David. "You mean the disruption due to the fire?"

"Yeah, that's it," said Chloe, forcing herself to talk civilly to David. "It wasn't for long, but… I was terrified before I went on stage, but once I was out there I kinda forgot to be scared. But it went well, that's the main thing."

"I'm proud of you, Chloe," said her mother. "I always knew you had a good heart. Well done!"

"Yes, well done," said David. "I'm… also proud of what you've achieved."

"Thanks mom," she said, smiling awkwardly. "Anyway, I gotta go. I'll catch ya'll later." She turned to leave, but Joyce called her back.

"Wait up, Chloe," she said. "Before you go, David has something to say to you." When Chloe rolled her eyes, Joyce took a stance. "Come on, Chloe, it'll only take a minute," she said. "Come into the dining room." She moved to put her hand on Chloe's shoulder, but her daughter shrugged it off.

When they entered the dining room, David was there, putting two plates of pancakes onto the table. He looked at Chloe, then approached Joyce.

"I don't think this is the best idea, Joyce," he whispered into her ear.

"You already promised," she whispered back. "Chloe's here now." David sighed, then looked at Chloe.

"Chloe, there's something… I mean," he started, "after a discussion with your mother, we've come to an agreement". He was standing straight up with his arms by his sides. His voice was awkward, as usual when he spoke to her, but this time his voice was also clipped. "From now on, I am going to… trust you."

Whatever it was that Chloe was expecting, it wasn't that. "I…" she fumbled. "You're going to trust me? What exactly does that mean?"

"Chloe…" warned her mother, but David carried on.

"It means, Chloe, that from today forward, I'm going to wipe the slate clean. A Tabula Rasa, so to speak. I'm going to take you at your word. So if you say you haven't been smoking or drinking, then I'll just… leave you be."

"The idea is you should feel comfortable here, Chloe," said Joyce. "David's not going to interrogate you and neither am I."

"Interesting choice of words," said Chloe. "Interrogate. Because I can do without that." She thought for a moment. "So, how far is this going to reach?"

"What do you mean?" said Joyce.

"Well, David's going to trust what I say and not interrogate me. What about, say, tossing my room?"

"No, we're not going to do that either. That would be wrong," said Joyce, and Chloe noticed that David was looking a little less sure of himself. She decided to press her advantage.

"Too late mom," she said. "My room is a mess."

"It's always a mess," said Joyce, smiling. "I've long given up trying to get you to tidy it."

"No mom, you don't get it," she said. "I don't mean it's a mess because I don't idy it, although amazingly I always seem to know where things are. No, it's a mess because Detective Dickwad here has gone through my stuff. My clothes, my drawers, my desk. All of it rifled through and strewn everywhere!" she said, looking accusingly at David. "My room has been tossed."

"David?" Joyce frowned.

"It's what you asked me to do," he said to Joyce. "Make sure she's got no drugs or alcohol…"

"… I didn't mean…"

"… for her own good."

"Oh, my goodness, Chloe, I'm sorry," said Joyce, aghast. She looked at David. "That is _not_ what I meant, David. Going through Chloe's things, she's not in your regiment, you know that! She's a teenager. She's my daughter!"

"I'm sorry Joyce, I thought that… look, I didn't know this would upset you…"

"… upset me? It's Chloe who deserves the apology. David, you don't _ever_ do that again. How are we supposed to earn Chloe's trust if you keep pulling stunts like this? What's next? Security cameras all over the house? No, I'm not having it. Apologise to Chloe. Now." Chloe looked expectantly at David.

"Chloe," said David, trying to look contrite but only succeeding in looking like he'd just been caught stealing, "I'm sorry I violated your privacy. That was wrong…"

"… no shit, Sherlock…"

"… but I did it with your best interests at heart." He finished speaking and stood there. Joyce looked expectantly at Chloe.

"Okay," she said, throwing her hands up. "I accept your lame apology. Lamest of the lame."

"Chloe!"

"What? I _really_ meant it. Just like he did. Good job. Can I go now?" She turned once more to leave, but this time it was David that spoke up.

"Chloe, wait a moment, please. There's… I've been… I want to show you something. Maybe… maybe now is a good time." He took a photograph from his shirt pocket and handed it to Chloe, who looked at it with a sullen expression on her face. The photograph showed David and another guy, both in army uniform and holding guns. "This is… was… my friend Phil. We served in the same unit for two tours. He… Phil was killed. Just a couple of weeks before the end of the deployment." He looked down at his feet. "It was funny… we used to joke about all the trouble we were gonna get into once we got back home, drinking, drugs, women, you know… but he died. He died, Chloe, and I didn't. And I think about that every god-damned day." He looked back up at Chloe. "The point is, Chloe, I've had my share of grief. I know what you're going through, please believe me." He shuffled his feet. "I guess, I'm saying… I don't know, I'm here to… do… um, whatever I can to help you get over the loss of your dad. I'm really not trying to replace him, I wouldn't do that, Chloe."

"Please Chloe, I'm begging you," said Joyce. "Please give David a chance."

"Why don't you keep this photo for a little while?" said David. "Think about what I've said."

 _He's got a point._

 _Fuck off. I told you earlier._

 _Look at him in that photo. He looks young. And happy. He's smiling. When was the last time you actually saw him smiling? Come to that, when did you actually look?_

 _He… does look happy._

 _Chloe…_

 _He searched my room. He went through my fucking stuff!_

 _Yeah, he did. And he owned up to it. And he apologised._

 _Lame._

 _True, but at least he tried. And he's trying now. Why don't you give him a chance?_

 _You're a fucking traitor! You don't like him either!_

 _Life can get very difficult, and very lonely if you keep pushing everyone away, Chloe. From time to time, you really do need to give it a try. Like now._

 _Okay, okay! Anything to shut you up!_

 _Good. And take care of that photo, whatever you do. Do not damage it. You have no idea what it means to him._

Chloe nodded and put the photo away carefully. "Okay," she said, trying to sound as sincere as possible. "You know what, I'll accept your apology, if you ensure you never toss my room again. And you've got your chance. I'd make the most of it, if I were you." She paused. "Um, thank you for the photo. I'll take good care of it. I can see it means a lot to you."

"Chloe!" cried her mother, embracing her in a bone-crunching hug.

"Mom, come on!"

"I'm so proud of you," she said.

"I do really need to go. I'm… meeting Rachel."

"Okay," she said.

"Chloe, be careful out there, okay?" said David, nodding at her.

"Roger. Um, wilco. Or some shit," said Chloe, turning to leave. She left the house and entered the garage, looking around for the tools she needed. She grabbed William's old toolbox and was about to leave when something caught her eye in David's toolbox. It was a car repair manual.

"Score!" she muttered. "This'll definitely come in handy."


	35. Blaming your Tools

"Gah! Come on!"

Chloe kicked out at the side of the truck, swearing as her foot connected with the front tyre. She picked up a wrench and bent over the bonnet. After a moment, she straightened up and sighed.

"Come on, truck, work with me here, for fuck's sake. Can't you see I'm trying to help you?"

She bent back over the bonnet for a few minutes, trying something with the wrench, but as she straightened up, holding her back, she managed to drop the wrench on her foot. This caused her to suddenly straighten her back, which in turn meant she hit her head on the bonnet above.

"Fuck! Fucking… work, you fucking fuck!" she screamed, kicking out at the truck again. "I'm trying, you know that? I'm fucking trying! So help me a little, okay?" She slumped down and sat on the floor, her back propped up against the truck, listening to the radio which she'd propped up on the truck's dashboard.

"…and I said to him, 'I'll never take my clothes off in public, even if it _is_ considered art!'" laughed the presenter. "Okay folks, Stan Stanwick here with the Sunday Funday on STYR Arcadia Bay, and I'm joined in the studio by none other than Skip Matthews, lead singer of the up-and-coming hot-property PissHead." At the mention of the band, Chloe's ears pricked up and she started properly listening. "Good morning Skip, say hi to all of your fans out there."

"Um, hi, uh… fans," said a voice that Chloe recognised as the security guard from Blackwell. She smiled at his obvious awkwardness.

"Now Skip," continued the host, "I understand you have an alter ego, isn't that right?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

"By night you are the wild lead singer of PissHead, one of the Bay's hottest new bands, but by day, oh Skip, you work as the head of security at none other than our own flagship educational establishment, Blackwell Academy, isn't that right?"

"Yeah, it's… uh, true, uh, Stan."

"Keeping the kids safe by day, and then melting their faces by night, right? Am I right, or am I right, or am I right? Right? Right?"

 _Dammit. Groundhog Day. That's gotta be worth at least thirty points there._

"You're definitely right there," said Skip, beginning to warm up to the fact he was on radio. Chloe smiled again.

"So tell me, are you at all nervous about the kids learning your alter ego? Do many of them know about PissHead?"

Skip laughed. "Not really. The last week or so has been absolutely manic. In fact, I was talking to a friend of mine only recently, in fact I played her a demo…"

"… her? Do I sense a budding romance here, Skip?"

"No!" laughed Skip. "She's just a friend, but I played her the demo tape last week and she loved it!"

"That's great!" said the host. "Are you sure there's no romance…"

"… hey, I don't kiss and tell, just melt faces!" said Skip, laughing. "But, if you're out there listening, Chloe, thanks for your support and I'm sorry about, well, you know what."

 _Huh. I get a mention on the radio._

 _Not bad. Not bad at all._

 _Yeah, maybe I haven't totally killed our friendship after all._

 _Don't underestimate the power of friendship, Chloe. Even after years, they can come back and surprise you. You never know._

 _Are you coming back around to Max again? She's gone…_

 _… but not forgotten, Chloe. I've a funny feeling that you haven't heard the last of her._

"Sounds serious," chuckled the host. "Anyway, thanks to Skip Matthews for coming on the show this morning. We're gonna listen to PissHead's brand new track now, so if you haven't heard these guys yet, then crank up that volume to eleven, as my friends in Spinal Tap would say, because you are in for a ride. And, if anyone complains about the noise, you just tell 'em what my good friend Skip said, which is?"

"Uh, PissHead rules!"

"Nailed it!" cried the host. "And here they are! PissHead!" The music started playing and Chloe grinned, listening.

"Right," she muttered to herself, standing back up. She laid the book open on the bonnet and checked it against what she could see of the engine. "Ok, you piece of fuck," she continued. "Prepare to be fixed!" Motivated now, she checked the radiator cap, finding it full of… something. And something not particularly pleasant. She quickly moved away from it and found a fault in the battery post. The connection wasn't good, but the book explained how to fix it, and she was able to follow it and tighten the connection to a suitable level. She then moved on to the distributor cap, cleaning and replacing it, tightening the serpentine belt and blowing the crap out of the fuel filter. Finally, she took a look at the spark plug. It was quite obviously non-functional.

"Of course," she muttered. "Carbon deposits. Nothing's ever easy, is it?" She sighed, looking around for a possible replacement, then her eyes fell on William's car.

 _Wait a sec, William had the spark plugs replaced not long before the accident, right?_

 _Well remembered, Chloe._

 _See, I'm not completely useless._

 _I never said you were. Honestly, you don't value yourself enough._

 _Oh?_

 _It's true. Since William and Max left, for differing reasons, you've felt abandoned and worthless. It's been tough for me, watching you struggle to find your worth._

 _Tough for you? Really? For you? Tough?_

 _Look, I know perfectly well how tough it's been for you, Chloe. I know you intimately. It's been tough for me because I feel a little like a bystander. I want to help you, but I can only watch and talk. I can't actually do anything._

 _Damn right. You can't do anything. So shut the f…_

 _… there is something I can do. I can watch you go get those spark plugs._

Chloe walked over to her father's old car, controlling her breathing as she did so. Without thinking about it too much, she quickly removed the spark plugs and took them back to the old truck, replacing the non-functional ones.

"Come on," she muttered, sliding into the driver's seat and turning the key. When the truck sprang to life, she squealed in delight, fist-pumping the air as she revved the engine. She turned on the radio and drove a couple of laps around the junkyard. "Yes!" she shouted. "Take that up your ass, David!" Eventually she parked up and headed into the hideout, sitting down and attempting to get the grease off her hands. Once she'd finished, she pulled back a sheet covering a small mirror and gazed critically at her streak of blue hair, grinning.

"Hey, junkyard queen, where you at?" came Rachel's voice from outside, and Chloe smiled.

"I'm in here!" she called, and a few seconds later Rachel entered the hideout.

"Hi honey, I'm home," she said, smiling, but stopping as she saw Chloe's hair. "Holy shit, dude, your hair!" She stepped forward and swept her hand over Chloe's hair, causing a shiver to go down Chloe's spine. "It's so…"

"… badass?" said Chloe, and Rachel laughed.

"I was going to say hot, but yeah, badass works." She looked down at Chloe. "In fact, you look good today. Really good."

"Thanks. Made an effort," smirked Chloe.

"For lil' ol' me? Awww," drawled Rachel, earning a laugh from Chloe. "Anyway, I don't know if you know, but someone moved your truck?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Don't understand, it's not where it…" Realisation hit Rachel like a slap in the face. "Holy shit, _you_ moved it, didn't you?" Chloe just smiled. "Awesome! We has wheels?"

"We has wheels," repeated Chloe.

"Damn girl, you're practically a certified mechanic now," said Rachel. "Come on, I want to see." She pushed Chloe out of the hideout and they ran, laughing towards the truck. The joviality soon stopped as they saw Frank's RV at the junkyard entrance, and Frank walking towards them.

"Price," he growled.

"Frank," said Chloe.

"Who's that?"

"This is Rachel. Rachel, Frank. Frank, Rachel."

"I saw you at the show the other night," said Rachel.

"Funny. I was gonna say the exact same thing," he said. "Couldn't really miss you."

"Why, thank you," she said, smiling and curtseying.

"Didn't have you down as a culture-vulture," said Chloe.

"I was… my services were requested," said Frank. "Anyway, I thought I'd take a look, seeing as I was there."

"You're early," said Chloe. "I wasn't expecting you for another hour. What's the occasion?"

"It's his fucking bar mitzvah," said a familiar but unwelcome voice. To Chloe's consternation, Damon Merrick walked out of the RV to stand beside Frank. "Frank here is becoming a man. Aren't you, big guy?" he said, punching Frank's arm lightly.

"What's he doing here?" said Chloe, her face no longer smiling. Remembering what happened with Drew, the situation had just become a lot more serious and volatile.

"What do you think he's doing here, Chloe?" said Frank. "We're not dealing with a couple of dime bags now, yeah? This is serious. Where's the fucking money?"

"Seriously Frank," said Chloe, trying to sound as confident as she could, and sidling in front of Rachel. "If you think I'd pocket, or even think about pocketing a thousand bucks of your money, you're even dumber than you look." She threw her hands in the air. "The money wasn't there, okay? I looked, okay? I tossed his room but it wasn't there. I've no idea where it is. I was gonna tell you yesterday, but events overtook me, what with the play an' all."

"Who cares about the fuckin' play?" spat Damon. "I went to see Drew yesterday, he didn't have it. If he didn't have it, then in my book that means that you _do_ have it. So if I were you, I'd hand it over right now."

"I would, if I'd been able to find it," said Chloe. "But I'm telling you the truth. _It wasn't there_ , okay?"

"Damon, I don't think she has it," said Frank.

"Oh? It's so fuckin' cute how she acts like the two of you are friends," he said. "You heard about what happened to Drew, right? Right?" Chloe nodded. "Maybe worth keeping that in mind when you talk to me."

"Damon, I was talking to Frank, I asked him to come here this morning to talk about this. You know, to talk reasonably.."

"Bollocks!" said Damon. "You came here to give him some bullshit excuse about how you found it and spent it, or you gave it to some fucking worthwhile cause, right? Well, I'm not in business to save any fucking children, okay? _Where's my fucking money_?"

"I told you, I don't have it," said Chloe. As she said this, he took a step forward and grabbed her arm.

"I'll ask…" started Damon, but Rachel suddenly stepped out from behind Chloe and pushed him to the ground.

"Don't you fucking touch her," she snarled, and Damon got to his feet, eyebrows raised. "You don't get to touch her. _Ever!_ " He started back towards her, but Frank stopped him.

"Damon, come on, there's no need for us to get all het up," he said, and Damon glowered at him but took a step back.

"Why is it," he said, "that chicks think it's okay to hit me, but if I lay a finger on them, suddenly it's a whole other thing?" He glared at Chloe and Rachel, but didn't do anything else, obviously taken aback by Rachel's action. Beside him, Frank was trying to mask a smile. "Anyway, Frank says you're asking about a client of his. That true?"

"What if it is? That's between me and Frank, okay? None of your business," said Chloe.

"Oh? What if I _make_ it my business?" said Damon. He raised his arm, pointing at both Rachel and Chloe. "See, you two Nancy Drew wannabes here think it's a good idea to call your drug dealer and ask about his business. And his client list!" He snorted. "I didn't go to no fancy fucking academy like the two of you, but that doesn't mean I'm thick or nothing. And what you did doesn't strike me as the smartest thing to do." He pointed at Frank. "Maybe it's Frank's sunny disposition that confused you, but he's got a whole other side to him that I don't think you'd like, yeah?" He turned to look at Frank. "Should we let them see it?"

"Come on, Damon, we're just talking here," said Frank. He was looking slightly agitated. Damon sighed audibly.

"Okay. We're talking? So let's talk," he said. "I wanna know why you give a shit about this woman. Tell me."

"Never said it was a woman," said Chloe, trying to keep her rising fears under control. The situation could erupt at any moment.

"Like that, is it? You know I talk to Frank, right? So come on, 'fess up. Why?"

"She's a family friend," said Chloe, saying the first thing that came to her head. "We've been out of touch for a while, trying to get back in touch." Damon looked at her and laughed.

"Yeah, and Frank's my bitch," he said. "The chick's got no family. Or friends, come to that. Even _I_ know that."

"Look, none of that matter, okay?" said Frank. "All we care about is that you stop asking questions. Chloe, I'll see you later, okay? We need to sort out the money." He turned to go, and Damon joined him.

"You got off lucky, kid," he said, thrusting out his arm to point at Chloe's face. "Remember what happened to Drew North, kid," he continued. "Boy or girl, makes no difference to me. Cross me, and you'll pay." He stepped into the RV, but Rachel stepped forward before Chloe could stop her.

"No!" she said, and Damon turned back.

"What?" he said, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Tell me where she is. Now!"

"Rachel," said Chloe, trying to hold her back, but Rachel was having none of it. She took another step forward.

"Wait a minute," said Damon, chuckling. He took a closer look. "No way," he said. "No fucking way!"

"Come on, Damon," said Frank, but before he could shepherd Damon into the RV Rachel spoke up again.

"What the fuck is…"

"Rachel? As in Rachel… Amber?" he said. "That makes so much sense. You know who this is, Frank? This is James Amber's kid."

"Damon…"

"Your dad's a real piece of shit, you know that?"

"We're aware," said Chloe, dryly. "Irrelevant."

"Maybe," said Damon. "But in case it isn't… here's what happens next." Swiftly, and in an obviously practised motion, he pulled out a knife and pointed it at Chloe and Rachel.

 _Oh shit._

"Damon, come on man. They're kids, for fuck's sake," said Frank, quickly, but he didn't attempt to get in between them.

"No, they're not," said Damon. He stepped down off the RV and once more stood in front of the girls. "This one," he continued, pointing the knife at Rachel, "is the fucking DA's daughter! And right now she's going to fill me in on what her daddy is up to and how's connected to that whore everyone's asking about. In fact, she's going to tell me everything about him. Including what he's got on me."

"What?"

"Damon, calm down," said Frank, stepping forward as well. "We're still talking, yeah? Everything's still cool. No need to get crazy!" As he said that, Damon looked across at him, and Rachel saw a window of opportunity. She picked up a plank of wood from the ground and swung it, connecting solidly with Damon's head. He dropped his knife and fell to the floor, tripping up Frank as he did so.

" _Rachel!_ " cried Chloe, but Frank was already getting up, trying to warn Chloe, but Rachel was having none of it.

"You don't threaten me, you piece of shit!" she yelled, running forward at Damon and swinging the plank again. However, Damon had recovered quicker than she'd realised and he blocked the plank with his arm, picking up the knife with the other hand and stabbing Rachel in her arm. Rachel dropped the plank and stumbled backwards, looking at the wound on her arm. She screamed in pain.

" _Rachel!_ " cried Chloe again.

"Damon, what the fuck?" said Frank. Damon lunged forward again at Rachel, but this time Frank held him back. "Chloe, take her! Go! Now!" he yelled, struggling with Damon. As he did so, Chloe grabbed Rachel and bundled her into the truck.

"Rachel?" she said, looking across at her friend. Rachel's face was pale, and she'd slumped over.

"Chloe?" she said, weakly. "I don't feel so good."

"Shit! Shit! Hold on, Rachel," she cried, starting the truck and gunning the motor. Blood was spilling out of Rachel's arm, staining the seat and her clothes. "Fucking _no way_ I'm losing you!" cried Chloe, spinning the wheel and driving around the RV. She knocked over the junkyard sign as they escaped, then she really put her foot down and aimed for the hospital.


	36. Hospital

Everything was a blur. Chloe was aware she'd been sat on the same seat for what seemed like hours, although she had no idea how much time had actually elapsed. She barely remembered the drive to the hospital, one of the most terrifying journeys she'd ever undertaken, constantly looking across to Rachel to see her going paler and paler. She'd stopped the truck right in front of the hospital, skidding to a halt and blocking the main entrance as she jumped out of the truck, half-dragging, half-carrying Rachel into the emergency room, screaming for help as she did so. As soon as they'd seen her, the nurses had taken charge, immediately finding a gurney and wheeling Rachel in for treatment, leaving Chloe behind in the waiting room. She vaguely remembered James and Rose rushing in later on. James had tried to speak to Chloe, but Rose had pulled him towards where Rachel was receiving treatment, again leaving Chloe on her own. Some time later, a police officer had gone to speak to the Ambers, but even then had ignored Chloe and she'd continued to sit, sometimes silent, sometimes crying on the chair in the waiting room.

 _She's going to die, isn't she?_

 _You don't know that, Chloe._

 _I saw that wound. There's so much blood in my truck. I'm never going to get it… oh Rachel!_

 _Don't jump to conclusion, Chloe. She might be ok._

 _Yeah right. Might. Fucking… miracles don't happen to me._

 _You always do this. The littlest thing starts you panicking._

 _This is not a little thing. This is Rachel being stabbed, bleeding out in my truck! This is not a little thing!_

 _I know, I know, calm down, Chloe, steady on._

 _Don't you tell me to calm the fuck down, ok?_

 _Chloe, you need to calm down. Damn girl, you've got a temper on you and I like it. But it really won't help you at the moment, ok? Please, calm down._

 _Why should I?_

 _Because, any moment now, Rachel's father, or the police are going to want to know what happened to Rachel. Have you any idea what you're going to tell them yet?_

 _Um…_

 _The truth? The whole truth and nothing but the truth?_

 _Um…_

 _Or part truth and part… omission? Are you going to mention Damon? Or Frank? Or Sera?_

 _I don't know yet._

 _Well, you'd better work it out. They've left you on your own for a good while now. It won't last forever. Come on, pull yourself together, although not too much. Actually, thinking about it, it might be useful for them to see you're upset._

 _Yeah, that part won't be difficult._

 _Here we go. James alert._

Chloe looked up as a shadow appeared over her. It was James. He motioned to the chair next to Chloe and she nodded, allowing him to sit beside her. After a few moments of silence, James spoke.

"Rachel's going to be okay, Chloe," he said, and Chloe felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She began to cry again, but this time out of relief. James seemed to understand this, as he stayed silent while she cried. Eventually, she dried her eyes and looked up.

"She'll be okay?" she asked, and James nodded.

"She was lucky. The knife damaged her brachial artery but didn't cut it. She's lost a lot of blood, but she's out of surgery and resting." His head dropped. "It could have been a lot worse." He paused, not looking at her. "Chloe, you'll realise I need to know exactly what happened," he said, "but first of all I'd like to thank you."

"What for?"

"Your actions probably saved her life. Thank you for getting her here so quickly, Chloe," he said, and Chloe began to tear up again. "We… I'm so grateful to you for our actions."

"I… just did what I could," she said, knowing and dreading what was coming next. "You know… you do what you can for your friends."

"Chloe, I need you to tell me what happened," said James. "But before you do, I need to know the truth. The actual truth." He paused again. "I'm not going to chastise you, I'm not going to judge you, blame you, inform the police… anything like that. I just want to know the truth, please." He looked at Chloe and Chloe looked back, nodding sadly, decision made.

"I don't… I don't know everything, Mr Amber," she said. "It all happened so fast."

"It's okay. Take your time, and tell me what you do know," he said.

"Okay," she said. "Um, do you know who Damon Merrick is?" At this, James nodded his head.

"I know exactly who he is," he said. "Is he involved in this?" He clenched his fists and Chloe nodded.

"Well, he hates you," she said.

"He hates everyone," said James. "Especially those who deal a line in justice rather than cocaine." Chloe started giggling at that line and James looked pleased with himself at breaking the ice. "Go on," he said. "Tell me what happened." Chloe hesitated at first, but then starting talking.

"Okay, so Rachel wanted to meet Sera," she said, "and I knew that my dealer knows who she is…"

"… Frank Bowers?"

"Yeah, that's him. I didn't tell Rachel I'd seen her, like we discussed, I only asked her to let me sort things out, rather than her looking around for Sera. I thought perhaps I could do it a little more discreetly, and also keep her out of it…"

"… I appreciate that, Chloe…"

"… so I asked to meet Frank, but Damon showed up with him. Rachel was with me, she was supposed to be gone when he showed up, but he got there an hour early and she was still there with me."

"What did Merrick want?" said James, frowning.

"I think he wanted to scare us away, to stop asking questions about Sera."

"Is that how things became violent?" At this, Chloe nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "When he found out that Rachel was the.. I mean, your daughter, he wanted information about you and what you knew about him and others."

"My daughter? How did he figure that out?"

"I'm sorry, that was my fault," said Chloe, dropping her head and beginning to cry. "I stupidly called her Rachel, he latched on to it and figured it out from there."

"It's okay, Chloe, it's not your fault, you weren't to know," said James. "Merrick is a nasty piece of work at the best of times, but he's not stupid." He pursed his lips. "I _was_ hoping to keep Rachel away from him, but…"

"You're telling me," said Chloe. "He pulled a knife and threatened us both, but mainly Rachel. He said something, I can't remember what, that really sent her over the edge, so she grabbed a plank and smacked him over the head with it. He then came at her and stabbed her. I keep thinking that maybe I could have done something about it, but it all happened so fast, and before I knew it Rachel was screaming and blood was…"

"… it's not your fault, Chloe, you just needed to get out of the there and get Rachel out."

"So then Frank held him off so we could get to the truck. I heard a yell, I think maybe he stabbed Frank, but I don't know what happened. I just drove here as fast as I could and… well, you know the rest." She sat in silence, fidgeting with her fingers until James spoke up.

"Chloe, I really appreciate you telling me the truth," said James. "Look, I know you imagine that I'm going to be cross with you, or something, but I'm… look, I'm not angry at you, I'm not angry with you at all. I'm angry at the scumbag who did this, but I'm just grateful you were there for my daughter. I'll… look, maybe I can pull a few strings with Ray Wells, get you reinstated into Blackwell, show my appreciation over what you did."

"You'd do that?" said Chloe, blinking her surprise, and James nodded.

"I can't guarantee anything though… and you'd have to promise to behave and study. I know you're an intelligent girl, Chloe, your academic record speaks for itself. I'm hoping that you can realise your potential, not waste it. Please."

"I'll… I'll try, Mr Amber. I've got Rachel to help me."

"Yeah," he said.

"Um, look, what if Rachel still wants to meet Sera?"

James dropped his head. "After all this?" He sighed and shook his head. "I'm hoping she'll see reason. If Sera was visiting Frank… it shows she's not as sober and reliable as she'd have me believe. She's… I think she's going to be toxic for Rachel. Meet her, bond with her, then reject again." He looked over to where Rose was now gesturing. "Chloe, they said that if Rachel had arrived only a few minutes later… Thank you, Chloe. You've saved Rachel, and my world. She's sleeping now, and it's likely to be some time before she wakes up, but when she does, I'll let you know, I promise."

"Okay, thanks Mr Amber," said Chloe, shaking James's offered hand. He rose and joined his wife down the corridor, and they went back into Rachel's room. Chloe teared up again but hastily wiped away her tears when another shadow fell over her.

"Hey," said Steph. "Can I?" she asked, pointing at the seat. Chloe nodded and she sat. "Mrs Amber just told me that Rachel's going to be okay." She sighed. "I'm really glad."

"Yeah. Me too. Um, how's uh… Drew?"

"He's not bad. It's his leg. Look, we're in the room just down there. You should come by. At the very least, come get some company. You've been on your own a while, haven't you?" Chloe nodded.

"I'll.. yeah okay, I'll pop over in a bit," said Chloe, and Steph rose, heading back into Drew's room.

 _Should I pop in and see Drew and Mikey?_

 _You've got time to kill. No pun intended. Why not? At the very least, it'll be company for you._

 _Who's that standing outside his room?_

 _No idea. Just a guess though – Drew's father?_

 _Oh, didn't he lose his job when Sean Prescott closed down the docks?_

 _That's the guy – Drew mentioned it during his altercation with Nathan, remember?_

Before Chloe could head down the corridor, however, her attention was caught by the conversation of two firefighters who were standing near the vending machine. Their throats were obviously parched, and they were drinking quickly to try and rehydrate.

"Did you hear?" said one of them to the other. "It was just over the radio. The fire's out."

"Finally!" said the other one. "I knew we'd get it under control eventually. I hope they find out who…"

"No, it's not under control. It's out."

"Out? As in…"

"Extinguished."

"That can't be… after this morning, we were all told…"

"I know what we were told, but it's out. It apparently extinguished itself…"

"How's that even possible?"

"Hell if I know. All I know is that it's out. To be honest, that's good enough for me. Last few days have been…"

"… hell?"

"Got it in one."

 _The fire's out?_

 _That's what they said._

 _But they said…_

 _I know what they said. I heard it too, remember? The fire went out on its own._

 _That's… weird._

 _Yup._

 _Any thoughts?_

 _Fires don't just go out on their own._

 _Fires don't just start the way they did on Friday, either._

 _This is true. You think there's something…_

 _… paranormal?_

 _I was going to say otherworldly, but that'll do. You think?_

 _The fire did seem to start extraordinarily quickly, and seemed to spread when Rachel really got angry and screamed at it._

 _And it went out when she got stabbed. Coincidence?_

 _Maybe not. It's still… that's not possible, right?_

 _It doesn't seem so. Rational minds would discount that theory completely._

 _But you?_

 _Sherlock Holmes once said… when you have discounted all other reasons, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth._

 _Hmm._

On her way down to Drew's room, Chloe's attention was distracted by a loud conversation in one of the other rooms. She didn't recognise the voices, but she did recognise the content.

"Nathan was clearly defending himself," said the first voice, "against unwanted and inappropriate physical contact."

"Sean, don't be silly," said the female voice. "I can't talk when you get defensive."

 _Sean? As in Prescott? So who's the female? His wife? No, surely…_

"I'm not being _silly_ , as you so eloquently put it," said Sean. "Continuing to involve my son in the issues of your daughter will have extremely unpleasant ramifications for you."

"My daughter? _Unpleasant_? Samantha has two broken ribs, due to the action of your son!" said the female voice. "I'm quite within my rights to report the assault! How dare you describe this as unpleasant!"

 _Samantha? That's her mother? And she's… hurt? Nathan hurt her?_

"What could possible be more unpleasant than what we've already gone through?" continued Samantha's mother. "Nathan assaulted my daughter. He deliberately broke two of her ribs and gave her a black eye. There's no going around this. I'll be speaking to police."

"I really would advise you to reconsider that course of action," said Sean. "You see, involving the police would… be an unwise move on your part."

"Are you _threatening_ me, Sean Prescott?"

"Threatening you?" Sean seemed genuinely surprised. "What an imagination you have! No, I was simply advising you against what would prove a futile course of action. I'm sure we can come to some sort of an agreement here." He paused. "I'm sorry, I have to take this call. Why don't you go and think it over? Contact my secretary when you're ready to discuss this amicably and we'll set up a meeting. Of course, we can't do that if you decide to involve the police, and I really would have to advise against that." A moment later a woman that Chloe surmised to be Samantha's mother left the room in tears. Inside the room, Sean took the phone call. "Good afternoon. Thank you for returning my call… yes, I was wondering in what aspect… my son has been _assigned_ to you? Why has my son been _assigned_ to you? I never authorised… they sent a psychiatrist because my son was getting _upset_? … Listen, my son needs _nothing_ from you, okay? He simply put down a couple of bullies who were harassing him at school. That is all, in fact, I'm quite proud of what he did… no, you're wrong, he's not displaying… she came at him! He was merely defending… look, I'm fed up with these made-up problems. There is _nothing_ wrong with my son, so you can de-assign yourself, as I can confirm he will not be attending any psychiatric sessions with you or anyone else. Do I make myself clear?"

 _Holy shit, Nathan is…_

 _… fucked up?_

 _I was going to say 'in trouble', but, yeah. Sure._

 _He hit Samantha._

 _I know. I told her not to approach him last night. I told her…_

 _I know what you told her. It seems she didn't really take your advice. You can't blame yourself for the folly of others, Chloe._

Shaking her head, Chloe tried to forget what she'd just heard and continued down to Drew's room. The man that Chloe thought was Drew's father was talking on his phone as Chloe approached. He looked up and acknowledged her presence as he pointed to his phone. Chloe understood and nodded.

"… so I'll see you then. Alright, thanks," he said, hanging up the call. "Sorry about that," he said to Chloe."

"Oh, no worries," she said. "Mr… uh, Mr North?"

"That's me," he said, offering his hand. "And you are?"

"I'm Chloe," she said, shaking his hand. "Chloe Price."

He smiled. "Pleased to meet you, Chloe Chloe-Price. You a friend of Drew?"

"Sort of," she said. "I know Mikey and Steph a little more. How's… uh… how's things going for you?"

"Not too bad, I guess," he said. "I mean, Drew's hurt, but other things are going better. I'm… moving back into my old apartment. Actually, I'm moving in in… around two hours or so." He looked a little awkward. "I don't know if you know, but Mikey's been crashing with Drew. I had… a little trouble with work, and things have been tough. But thankfully, Drew's managed to scrape together enough to get me back on my feet." He smiled. "He's good like that. Always thinking of me."

"Good, I'm glad things are starting to work out for you," said Chloe.

"Wait a minute," he said, "you said your name was Chloe? Mikey's mentioned you a couple of times now. I wonder… I have a question for you, if you don't mind?"

"Sure, I guess," said Chloe, frowning.

"It's just that… I know things have been tough for me and I've been a little distracted recently, what with work, home, you know, and the boys have been acting a little, well… I think the only way I can describe it is 'guilty'. I'm worried that maybe I've missed something important. Do you, by any chance, know what's going on, if anything _is_ going on?" He looked hopefully at Chloe, who smiled sadly back at him, knowing instantly that she couldn't tell him about Drew's association with Damon.

"Uh, no sorry," she said. "To be honest, the end of last week was the first real time I'd hung out with them."

"That's alright," said Drew's father, although he looked disappointed. "I appreciate that you've been keeping my boys company. Drew's got so many hopes for himself, and they all ride on that knee. It seems like he's been even more driven lately, especially with my… situation. I heard he got into a confrontation with Sean Prescott's son."

"Yeah, I heard that too," said Chloe, now feeling slightly awkward.

"Drew's not a bad kid," said Drew's father. "I think the situation got a little out of hand. I did talk to him about it, he's not a bully really. I think what happened to me in work disappointed him as well. Both of them, actually, in different ways." He stopped talking and seemed to realise who Chloe was. "Sorry I'm laying all this on you," he said, "I don't mean to… I'm just trying to stay strong. For the boys, you know."

"That's okay," said Chloe.

"Thanks for listening, and look, do me a favour please? Don't worry either of them with…" He stopped talking as the phone rang. "Uh, excuse me, Chloe. Nice to meet you," he said, and put the phone to his ear. "Hello, Anthony speaking…"


	37. Revenge of the Dragonkin

It was a typical hospital room that Chloe walked into. Drew was lying on the bed staring up at the ceiling, and Steph and Mikey were playing a tabletop game in one corner. They all looked up as she entered.

"Hey Chloe!" said Mikey, breaking into a smile. He looked genuinely pleased to see her.

"Hey Mikey," said Chloe, then paused. "Are we… good?" He smiled in response.

"Yeah, we're good," he said. "I mean, you weren't there for the right reasons, but you redeemed yourself towards the end."

"You made it," said Steph, also smiling. "Good to see you again, Chloe."

"Hi Chloe," said Drew, "nice to see you." He offered his hand, and Chloe accepted it.

"Don't get up," she said, waving her hand airily, causing both Steph and Mikey to burst out laughing. "Um, how's the… uh… knee?"

"I'm not sure," said Drew, wincing as he jarred his leg. "It's too early to tell, apparently. But it hurts like a good 'un."

"Sorry, dude."

"It's all good," shrugged Drew. "Basically my own fault, I guess. Bit off more than I could chew with Damon." He looked down. "I just hope there's no permanent damage. Still, my father was grateful for the money."

"Hey, I love your hair, Chloe," said Steph, brightly, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, it's really cool," said Mikey.

"Figured I'd go all in with my new barbarian look. You know, war paint?"

"Awesome!" said Mikey, but Drew just rolled his eyes.

"Nerds," he muttered, and Chloe just grinned at him.

"Any news about Rachel?" asked Steph, and Chloe nodded.

"She's stable. She'll wake up soon, her father said."

"What happened?" said Drew.

"You probably think I'm joking when I tell you, but I'm not," she said. "She got stabbed by Damon fucking Merrick."

"Seriously?" said Drew, creasing his brow. "It's… it's not because of me, is it?"

"Nah, don't worry your horses," said Chloe. "We're big enough to have our own shit with him now." She smiled. "It's all good."

"Fuck that guy!" said Drew, balling his fists. "I wish I could get my hands on him!"

"Hey, Drew, calm down, man," said Steph. "Chill out, okay? Doc said you had to rest and avoid stress." As she finished talking, the door opened and Drew's father, Anthony poked his head around.

"I'm headed out," he said. "Everything okay in here?"

"Yup," said Steph, and Mikey nodded along.

"Yeah, we're all good," said Drew. "Take care."

"I will," said Anthony. "Don't have too much fun now, will you? Try to keep it appropriate for the hospital." He grinned and left the room, but Drew immediately clenched his fists again.

"Calm down, Drew," said Steph, and Chloe nodded.

"Yeah, what she said," she said. "Look, getting angry isn't going to achieve anything, you'll just end up…" She stopped talking with a very bemused expression on her face.

"What?" said Steph. "You look…"

"… nothing, I just heard what I was saying. You'll end up like… me," said Chloe. "It's okay, I'm just realising a few things about myself." She shook her head and nodded at the tabletop game. "How's Elamon doing? Did he manage to heal his legs?"

"Um, not exactly," said Mikey, grinning, then sighed. "He tried. It was painful. And ultimately unsuccessful."

"So he can't walk?"

"Nope."

"Shit, sorry dude," said Chloe, but Mikey smiled.

"He's learned to live with it. He's found himself kind of a workaround," he said, and uncovered the game. "We've had to hide the game from the nurse."

"Really? Why?" asked Chloe, and Steph giggled.

"The nurse is a staunch Christian," she said, "and she told us that role-playing games like this accomplish nothing apart from inviting the forces of Satan into our soul." She giggled again, and Chloe joined her.

"That's…"

"Yeah, exactly."

"But…"

"I know, Chloe. So we hide the game from her. Although," Steph continued. "It might not last much longer. Elamon's backed into a bit of a corner here. He might not make it."

"Wait," said Mikey. "What about Barb? She can help me, maybe the two of us together, like last time, can actually make it out alive!"

"Wait, you're into this nerdy shit, too?" said Drew, laughing at Chloe, who nodded serenely.

"Hell yeah," she said, enthusiastically. "It's a game where I make up crazy shit and act like a badass. What's not to like?"

"Look," said Steph, awkwardly, "I don't want to get all technical with you, but I'm pretty sure that Barb died last time out?"

"Ah, yeah, there is that," said Chloe.

"Although… wait a sec, Chloe, didn't Barb have the Anklet of Reincarnation?" said Steph, and Chloe looked at her, confused, then twigged.

"Um, yeah, I totally had that trinket," she said, and Mikey grinned.

"Cool! You mean you can actually swoop in and save the day?"

"Here I come to save the day!" sang Chloe, and Steph groaned.

"Really? Mighty Mouse?" she said, laughing.

"Seemed to fit," shrugged Chloe, trying to suppress laughter.

"Can Barb join, please?" said Mikey, and Steph looked at Chloe, who nodded.

"Sure," she said, and Steph smiled.

"Thanks," she said.

"Gotta save Elamon," said Chloe. "Set me up, o great and powerful Steph."

Steph set the game back up and scooted around behind her manuals. "We rejoin Elamon," she said, "as he majestically soars over the Traveller's Path. He glances over his shoulder, only to discvoer, to his eternal horror, that his pursuers are right behind him. He…"

"… wait, you can fly?" said Chloe.

"Well, yeah. I'm a wizard," said Mikey. "Plus, you hacked off my feet. There's not that many wheelchairs around."

"Ah yeah. Um, yeah, I did that. Nice workaround."

"Elamon rounds the corner, trying desperately to keep ahead of his pursuers, only to discover Barb, the elf barbarian, sitting by a fire, roasting squirrels."

"Barb?" said Mikey.

"Squirrels?" said Chloe, and Steph shrugged.

"You were hungry," she said.

"Barb looks up at Elamon," said Chloe. "Sup?"

"Sup? That's all you have to say," said Mikey. "I'm running from dragonkin because of you. Remember when you killed that jailor and took his key to free the prisoners?"

"Technically he killed himself," Chloe pointed out. "I didn't touch him."

"You scared him to death!"

"Well, yeah. That was kind of awesome."

"Well, it turns out you offended the entire clan. And now they're after me!"

"Well, it _was_ more of a team effort," said Chloe, trying to keep a straight face. "And I died. Makes it hard to come after me."

"A team effort? You told him you'd skin him, make a handbag out of him and carry him around in it?"

"Um, yeah. Team effort," said Chloe. "You picked up the key, didn't you?"

"Totally not the point," said Mikey. "You…"

"Suddenly," interrupted Steph, "dragonkin scouts rush in, clawing you while your backs are turned. Take, uh…" she rolled the dice, "four damage." She turned to Chloe. "You're up, Barb."

"Simple. I disarm them," said Chloe. "I can do that. I can use their weapons against them, then."

"They're not carrying weapons," said Steph.

"Um, okay, then I grab the arm of the nearest dragonkin and pull." She rolled a dice. "Eighteen. Suck it." Mikey chuckled, and Steph just looked at Chloe.

"Fine. You're now wielding the severed arm of a dragonkin. The others are looking at you, more than a little afraid."

"Go on, Barb," whispered Mikey. "Teach them a lesson."

"I beat them to death with the arm," said Chloe. She rolled the dice. "Fifteen."

"You curl the fingers into a fist and bludgeon the dragonkin scouts with it," said Steph, "swinging the arm with a blind fury until no dragonkin remain standing."

"Awesome!" said Mikey, and Drew couldn't help but smile.

"Don't celebrate just yet," said Steph. "You begin to hear the clinking armour of hundreds of dragonkin warriors. The sound grows louder as they approach."

"Shit," said Chloe, and Mikey nodded.

"And that is why I was running," he said.

"Piece of cake," said Chloe. "I just bludgeoned six of them."

"They were scouts. These are warriors. Four times as hard," said Mikey.

"Um, well… shit. Running… sounds good." Chloe inhaled. "Yeah. Sounds like a plan."

"You sprint as fast as you can," said Steph. "Elamon flying close behind you until you come across a fork in the road. With the dragonkin army behind you, you have a choice to go left, towards the mouth of a deep, dark cave. The other path takes you into a dense, misty forest. Which way do you go?"

"Can I, you know, feel it out first, get an idea?" said Chloe.

"Totally. Roll for perception," said Steph. "Okay, a four. You feel out with your emotions, enveloping them around you. You can't be totally positive, but you're pretty sure the cave is dark and forest has… trees."

"Helpful," said Chloe.

"Not really," said Mikey, and Chloe just looked at him.

"Okay, Elamon. Nice and easy, binary choice here. Cave or forest?"

"Cave," said Mikey, after a moment's thought.

"Really? I thought you'd have gone forest," she said. "You know, with the whole no-feet thing."

"Normally, you'd be right," said Mikey. "But Elamon has a deadly fear of forests that are dense and misty."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Is that an actual thing? I mean, is there a name for it?" asked Chloe, but Mikey shook his head.

"Don't think so."

"There needs to be," said Chloe. "If you are going to use it to get out of going into the forest, then there must be a proper name for it."

"Forest-phobia?" said Mikey, but Chloe scoffed.

"That's… totally shit," she said. "No, we need a proper-sounding name that's all scientific and shit." She thought for a moment and consulted her phone. "Well, Hylophobia is the fear of forests, and Homichlophobia is the fear of mist or fog, so… Homichlohylophobia would be the fear of misty forests." She looked up to see a forest of open mouths.

"How do you…" said Mikey. "I mean, how do you even know this shit?"

"Google is my friend," she said. "Plus, I know shit like this." She grinned. "I'm not just a pretty face, you know."

"How do you pronounce it?" said Mikey. "If I'm, I mean, if Elamon is suffering from it, I should probably know how to pronounce it."

"Hom-i-chlo-hy-lo-phobia," said Chloe, slowly. "Just remember 'chlo' in the middle." She chuckled. "You'll get used to it." She looked at the gameboard. "Okay, then, cave it is, due to Elamon's Homichlohylophobia." said Chloe. She shot her arm out in front of her. "To the caves!" she shouted, and Steph groaned again. Chloe heard a giggle from behind her and turned to see Drew covering up his mouth. "What?"

"Nothing, I just…" said Drew, smiling. "It's good to see Mikey enjoying himself again. Even if it is with that nerdy shit."

"Yeah well," said Chloe, "come on Steph, we need to get into the caves."

"You plunge into the darkness," said Steph. "The uneven, rocky terrain beneath your feet makes it difficult to navigate. You come around a corner to find a cube of bright green goo sitting in your path. Dead rats float around inside it, slowly dissolving."

"Of course it would be here," sighed Mikey. "A Gelatinous Polyhedron. Watch out, Chloe, you don't want to…" As he spoke, Steph rolled a dice, "… fall into it."

"You fall into it," she said, grinning.

"Seriously?" said Chloe.

"It's burning your skin," said Steph. "Only a little at first, but the pain only grows the longer you stay stuck."

"I cast Scorching Scythe!" said Mikey, rolling his dice. "Yes!"

"Your flame-scythe slices the Gelatinous Polyhedron in twain, feeing Barb from its clutches." Chloe began to smile and she and Mikey fist-bumped. "However, before your very eyes, the two halves grow and shift around until you are face-to-jelly with two, fully-grown and pissed-off Gelatinous Polyhedrons."

"Well shit," said Chloe. "They have intelligence?"

"Not really," said Steph. "They're Gelatinous Polyhedra."

"So how can they be pissed off, if they're not intelligent?" said Chloe, and Steph just looked at her.

"Your move," she said. "There are two of them. And they are pissed off. If you want to stay and discuss sentience and emotions with them, by my guest, but as Barb cannot speak um, their, um, language, you'd have a hard time. So I repeat. Your move."

"Let's see," said Chloe, consulting her character sheet. "Striking Smash! That sounds like fun. I smash the shit outta them!"

"You bring the flat of your axe down over the Polyhedra, smashing them each into three little globs," said Steph, chuckling. "But yet again, the chunks of jelly shift and grow and soon you're looking at a small army of six Polyhedra."

"Ring of Fire!" cried Mikey.

"You send out a burst of fire, exploding the Polyhedra into hundreds of tiny pieces," said Steph.

"Temper Tantrum!" cried Chloe. "That sounds like me! I don't give them a chance to transform!"

"It's super effective," said Steph. "You stomp on the little pieces, grinding them up into thousands of tiny jellies, which all begin to move and shift, their colour flashing dangerously."

Chloe and Mikey looked at each other and nodded. "Run!" they both said simultaneously.

"Luckily," said Steph, "Gelantinous Polyhedra have very low movement speed. You manage to flee safely, but the Polyhedra aren't far behind." She paused. "You're near the exit of the caves when you run across…"

"Oh shit, that's me, right?" said Drew. Mikey snapped his head up and looked at his brother with undisguised glee.

"You're gonna play?" he said, excitedly.

"Yeah, little bro," he said. "Can't exactly move here, so you'll have to roll and shit for me, okay?"

"Povel, the arrogant gnome bard is waiting to join you," said Steph.

"Bard?" said Chloe. "That's like, music and shit, right? Do you do requests? Play Firewalk!"

"I know not of your shitty music," said Drew, narrowing his eyes at her. "I am a minstrel of the woods."

"That's some big ass talk coming from someone who's less than three feet tall," said Chloe.

"Size isn't everything," said Drew, dryly.

"This is so awesome!" said Mikey, unable to contain himself. "What now?"

"Well," said Steph, "in the time you've been chatting, the army of Gelatinous Polyhedra has caught up to you. Several spew acid directly at Elamon."

"I grab the bard and use him to shield Elamon," said Chloe, grinning and rolling her dice.

"Whoa, hey, wait a moment!" said Drew, but Steph was laughing too much.

"All's fair in love and tabletop," she said. "You whip the bard's little body back and forth, blocking each blast of acid as they fly at you. The gnome strikes a perfect F-Sharp with every hit. Elamon is safe, but the gnome is badly burned."

"Sing Firewalk, and I'll give you a potion," said Chloe. "You need to be properly burned to do the song justice."

Drew sighed. "Really?"

"It's that or die screaming," said Chloe. Mikey was practically wetting himself laughing silently, and Drew grinned.

"You're a monster," he said.

"Yup," said Chloe. "Now sing, gnomey, sing!" Drew facepalmed.

"I don't know any of their songs," he said, trying but failing not to smile.

"Your skin is beginning to bubble," said Steph. "Barb does have a potion of reviveration."

"Reviveration?" said Drew, and then sighed. He inhaled, and Chloe grinned.

"It's okay," she said. "I don't want to hear you singing _that_ much. I give the bard the potion of… what was it again?"

"Reviveration," said Steph.

"That one."

"You manage to pour the potion down his throat," said Steph, "and the results are near-instantaneous. His skin miraculously repairs itself, and he's able to stand up."

"Cool," said Mikey.

"You continue running away from the Polyhedra, and burst forth into the Majestic Meadow," she said. "All around you, all you can see is lush green fields full of birds, flowers… and dragonkin."

"What?"

"Yes, they didn't chase you. They circled around to set a trap. And you just walked right into it."

"Ah crap," said Chloe.

"Behind you, the army of Gelatinous Polyhedra have caught up."

"Barb?" said Mikey.

"Um, yeah. Gnome. Time to sing. For real this time," said Chloe. "I need those sweet F-Sharps." She turned to Steph. "Okay, this is how it's going down. Gnomey here sings his sweet heart out, and I do ma dance thang on the dragonkin, who will be so enamoured we'll be able to hack a few and escape. Capische?"

"Um, you can do that?" said Drew.

"Worked before," said Chloe.

"Roll," said Steph, and Mikey clasped his hands together. Chloe rolled her dice, then Mikey rolled for Drew. "Chloe, you rolled a seventeen. Nice. Drew, not so good. A two."

"Ah," said Drew. "Shit."

"The gnome begins to sing a sweet melody, and Barb begins her dance of the… what do you call it?"

"The dance of the seven… um…"

"… veils?"

"No way!" said Chloe. "Too clichéd. The dance of the seven army-surplus blankets." Beside her, Mikey practically spit out his drink as he burst out laughing.

"Okay," said Steph. "Barb begins the dance of the seven army-surplus blankets… seriously, where do you come up with this shit… and the dragonkin are as enamoured as expected. However, as you get to the third blanket, Povel's…"

"... Povel?"

"… the gnome…"

"… oh, didn't know his name…"

"… because you never asked me…"

"… you never offered…"

"… so rude…"

"… ahem," broke in Steph. "Povel's voice failed to hit the top not and cracked, causing the spell to be broken. The dragonkin roar in unison and one of them throws a spear, driving through Povel's defences, killing him instantly."

"What? I hardly got to play!"

"Sorry dude, you rolled low, and I rolled really high," said Steph. "Plus your singing was off-key. You deserved it."

"Ugh, we're surrounded," said Mikey.

"We're screwed," said Chloe. "Come on, Elamon, I'm sure you've got some sweet spell that'll save the day."

"Um, well, I do have Searing Crystal," he said, hesitantly.

"Perfect. Searing Crystal the fuck outta them."

Mikey sighed and shook his head. "You don't get it. This isn't just another spell. This crystal is a one-use only last-resort. It's like… dropping a nuke. It'll kill everything. Including you and me."

"Is it fire-based?" asked Chloe.

"Yeah," said Mikey.

"No worries," she said. "When we killed Durgy Ron last time, you nabbed his bracelet, remember? That had fire, um, thingy, didn't it?"

"You did," said Steph. "Elamon, you _do_ have the Bracer of Fire Immunity…"

"… immunity, that's the word…"

"… so you would survive."

"See? No problems," said Chloe, but Mikey shook his head.

"Only one bracer," he said.

"No worries," said Chloe, thinking quickly. "Keep the bracer. Cast the spell. I'll hold them off so you can survive." She smiled. "Gotta do something noble and shit, right? Blaze of glory an' all that, yeah?"

"It won't work!" he said. "Look how many of them there are!" He sighed. "I should never have started this quest. I'm too weak."

"Nonsense!" said Chloe. "You took down Durgy Ron, remember? You nabbed his bracelet…"

"… bracer…"

"… whatever, you took it."

"But I've never even used this spell before. What if I roll too low?"

"You know what else you've never done? Backed down, or given up," said Chloe. "If either of us is going to survive, this is the only way." She put her hand on Mikey's shoulder. "You can do this, Elamon."

"You're the only friend who's ever helped me…"

"… apart from the bard…"

"… my name is Povel…"

"… you're dead, you can't talk…"

"… I can't leave you behind, Barb!" Mikey was getting quite teary now, so Chloe knew what she had to do.

"I haven't exactly been the best of friends. I cut your feet off!" she said.

"No, I can't just kill you!"

"Elamon, you can do this," said Chloe, dropping her voice to a low whisper. "Don't be afraid. You _will_ win the day. You're destined for great things."

"If I can't save everyone, then I'm nothing. I'm useless."

"It's not about what you can and can't do, Elamon," said Chloe, earnestly. "It's about the greater good. I know you'll make the right call." She nodded at Steph. "Do it."

"Drew?" Mikey looked up at his brother with tear-streaked eyes, and saw with surprise that Drew was also getting quite emotional.

"You got this, bro," he said, and Mikey dropped his head.

"Alright," he said. "I'm so sorry, Chloe." He rolled the dice but couldn't look at the result. Chloe looked at it, held up ten fingers to Steph and then held up six more. Steph nodded.

"Elamon secures the Bracer of Fire Immunity on his wrist," said Steph. "He gives the elf barbarian one last nod and reaches for the sky. Barb yells her war cry…"

"… _GO JUMP ON A DILDO_ …"

"… so eloquent, she yells and charges at the hoard of dragonkin. They fight bravely, but Barb is possessed by the red mist and knows she can't be stopped. Time after time their claws and blades wound her, but each time she shrugs it off and raises her axe. Cleaving from left to right, she keeps the dragonkin's attention on her, heroically giving Elamon the time he needs to chant the spell. Eventually, however, the sheer numbers of the dragonkin tell and Barb sinks to her knees. However, she'd bought Elamon enough time and the Searing Crystal lifts from his hands, floating up into the clouds."

"Barb…" whispered Mikey.

"Suddenly, an explosion!" cried Steph, making Mikey jump. "Fire arcs outward in a ring, then the ring begins to spin, quicker and quicker."

"Whoa!" said Mikey.

"A quiet stillness encompasses the meadow. The hoard stops attacking Barb, looking instead to the sky, mesmerised by the spinning fire. Barb, on her knees and gushing blood from her many wounds, turns to look at Elamon."

"Thanks you, Chloe. For everything," said Mikey, and Chloe saluted him back.

"It's been an honour fighting beside you," she said, injecting as much sincerity into her voice as she could manage. There's no way she'd have admitted it, but she was getting quite emotional as well.

"The flames descend over the meadow, bathing everything in liquefying arcs of infernal chaos. The Polyhedra are the first to go, vanishing as their liquid cores evaporate in the intense heat. The dragonkin are screaming now in agony as they are consumed."

"Badass," said Chloe.

"Chloe, you've one final moment before your angry, elven body is burned away forever. Any last words?"

"Yeah," said Chloe. "I turn to face Elamon and say 'thank you, my friend'."

"I roll not to cry," said Mikey, his voice breaking completely. He rolled his dice and looked up tearfully at Chloe. "I rolled a three," he said, tears now rolling freely down his cheeks.

"The spell comes to a spectacular climax," continued Steph, "until all you can see is white. Then, just as suddenly, calm descends upon the meadow. All is quiet." She looks up. "Ash is falling from the sky, swirling around as it falls to earth, like snowfall."

"Daaaamn," said Drew. "You did it, Mikey."

"Congratulations, Elamon," said Steph. "You have completed 'Revenge of the Dragonkin.' You are successful." She turned over the game board and put it down by the side of the bed. "Nicely done."

"That's it? She's dead and the game's over?"

"Campaign's completed, Drew," said Steph.

"And Elamon's alone once more," said Mikey. "It was fun having a companion."

"Sooo," said Drew, "what if I rolled a new character? Could I join you then?"

"Wait, really?" said Mikey, looking up with his tear-streaked eyes. "You wanna keep playing?"

"Well, sure. That was actually fun," said Drew, smiling. "Plus, I can see what it means to you. I mean, look at you! You're crying! Over some make-believe nerdy shit!"

"Yeah. That _was_ intense," said Mikey. "I think that's the most emotional adventure I've ever had." He turned to Chloe and, to her surprise, threw his arms around her. "Thanks, Chloe, that was… amazing." After a moment's hesitation, Chloe returned the hug.

"Thanks for playing, Chloe," said Steph. "That was intense."

"Yeah, it was," said Chloe. "It was fun, too." Her phone buzzed, and she unlocked it. "Rachel's awake," she said. "I need to…"

"Go to her," said Drew."

"Say hi from us all," said Steph.

"Will do," said Chloe.

"We're all rooting for her," said Drew. "When you said that Damon stabbed her, I kept thinking, I'm supposed to look out for Mikey, not bring this shit into his life. Thank you."

"Sure, no worries," said Chloe. "Just… get better, okay? I'll see you around, I want to join in the game again soon!"

"Bye Chloe!" called Mikey as she left the room.


	38. Visiting Hours

Chloe knocked twice on the door and waited. She heard a faint 'come in' from inside and opened the door. Inside, Rachel was lying on the bed, talking to her father, who was sitting beside her, holding her hand. They both looked up as Chloe entered, and Rachel winced.

"Dad, it really hurts," she whimpered, and her father nodded, clutching her hand tightly in his own.

"Ssh, Rachel, the pain will pass," he said. "It'll hurt for a while, but it will get better."

"I'm… glad you're here," she said.

"Me too, me too," he said, then gestured towards Chloe. "Look, Chloe's here. You want me to stay?"

"No, I'll be okay Dad. Thanks," said Rachel. "You need some rest too. Go take care of Ro… mom."

"I'll be back later," he promised, standing up. "You take care of yourself. That's an order." He smiled gently at his daughter and received a smile back.

"I will, thanks Dad," she said. James left the room, nodding at Chloe on the way out. Chloe sat on the chair next to the bed and smiled at her friend, taking her hand.

"Hey Rache," she said, gently. "You look like hell."

"Gee thanks," she said, chuckling. "Such a charmer."

"I saw Steph earlier. She says hey. So does Mikey and Drew."

"They're here?"

"Yeah, they're, um, visiting Drew. Remember? Drew got attacked by Damon as well."

"Ah yes, you did tell me," she said, wincing once more. "I need to not move as much. I mean, it only hurts if I laugh. Or breathe."

"Yeah. Steph asked after you."

"She did? She's so cute, you know," said Rachel, and Chloe's face dropped. "Not as cute as you, though." She chuckled and winced as the pain shot through her body as well, but then Chloe began to cry. "Hey, Chloe, no, don't do that, I was only joking."

"Rachel, I'm so sorry," cried Chloe.

"What? What for?"

"You're here because of me! Because I choked back there in the junkyard."

"What? Don't be silly!"

"I'm not. You were so fierce, and I just froze. I just… I fucked it up, and I'm so sorry Rache, and…"

"… and you saved my life. You. Saved. My. Life. You're like my guardian angel, Chloe," said Rachel, squeezing Chloe's hand.

"I almost lost you. I can't believe I almost…"

"You didn't though. There's no way you're getting rid of me that easily," said Rachel, forcing a smile. "I'm here, right? It hurts but it'll heal. I'll be back to normal in no time at all." She turned her head back to gaze up at the ceiling. "You did good, Chloe."

"How?"

"You saved me. You got me into the truck and you brought me here. The doctors said that if I'd just been a few minutes later… well, I try not to think of that. But it's down to you, Chloe. It was your totally reckless driving that brought me here and saved me." She smiled. "My hero."

"I'm hardly a hero."

"You are to me, and you are to Dad," said Rachel. "Don't argue with me when I know I'm right."

"So, you happy your dad's here?" asked Chloe, changing the subject.

"Yeah," said Rachel. "I mean, I'm still mad at him for everything he's done, but… you know, it felt good to lean on him. He's still my dad, you know? I felt…"

"… safe?"

"Exactly."

"Like on Mount Hood."

"Yeah. Like… like there," said Rachel. She fell silent for a minute, then turned her head to look at Chloe. "Chloe, would you do something for me?"

"Name it," said Chloe.

 _She's going to ask you to find her mother, isn't she?_

 _I guess so. Do you think I can?_

 _Chloe, you know perfectly well that you can do anything if you put your mind to it._

 _What does that mean?_

 _I simply mean that you need to be motivated to do something. If you don't want to do it, you won't. Simple as that. So yeah, in answer to your question. You can do this, but only if you want to._

 _Should I?_

 _Now that is a far better question to ask. Should you help your friend? Your best friend?_

 _I think…_

 _Normally I'd say sure, do whatever you can for your best friend because that's what she'd do for you. But we're not talking about borrowing a few dollars here, or a bag of weed, cigarettes, or stumping up for lunch. We're not even talking about just finding someone. We're talking about possibly getting on the wrong side of Damon Merrick. And that's no kitten in the park._

 _So I shouldn't do it?_

 _I don't know, Chloe. It would be the right thing to do for Rachel, but you have to weigh the… possible negative consequences._

"Sera. My… birth mom," said Rachel. "Wow, that's so weird to say, or even think about. I mean, I'm not sure what she is, honest. But…"

"… you still want to meet her."

"Yeah."

 _Bingo._

 _Yeah. Total shocker._

 _It's decision time, Chloe._

"I figured as much," said Chloe. "You don't give up, do you?"

Rachel smiled. "Not when I can see what I want right in front of me," she murmured, causing a quick hot flush to hit Chloe. "Look, I don't know if she's even still in Arcadia, but if she is, will you find her, please?"

"You really want this, don't you?" said Chloe, and Rachel nodded.

"I do," she said.

 _Decision made._

 _Of course you'll do it. That's you in a nutshell._

 _Austin Powers._

 _Damn girl, you're good._

"Then, of course I will," said Chloe, without pausing. "Whatever it takes." She frowned. "I've no idea where to start though, especially now that Frank isn't exactly an open route and I'd rather not deal with Damon again."

"I tell you what, why don't you try my dad's office?" said Rachel, her eyes half-closed as she thought through the issue. "He's got her number in his phone. It's a burner phone, so he probably doesn't keep it on him, so look in the office. The house key's under the mat, the office code is zero-seven-two-two." She smiled again. "My birthday. Find her, please?"

"I'll find her, Rachel," promised Chloe. "I'll find her, and then I'll tell her how fucking cool you are." Rachel smiled and punched Chloe's shoulder.

"Thanks," she said, and Chloe nodded, standing to go. "Hey!" she said.

"What is it?" said Chloe, turning back.

"You forgot something," said Rachel.

"Uh, okay. What?" said Chloe, confused. Rachel just looked at her with raised eyebrows until Chloe's mouth formed a small 'oh' as she realised. She leant in for a goodbye kiss.

"Thanks," murmured Rachel, her head laying back on the pillow as she fell asleep. "Thanks for everything, Chloe. My guardian angel." Her eyes closed and her breathing slowed.

"You're welcome," whispered Chloe, gently kissing her cheek again. She rose and left the room, making a mental note of the keycode to James's office. As she did so, she bumped into a familiar face, waiting outside Drew's room. He was carrying a 'get well' balloon being held by a Hawt Dawg Man. He looked up at Chloe and grinned.

"Hi Chloe," he said.

"Hey Eliot," she said. "Good to see you." She tried to walk past him but he held up his hand and stopped her.

"Wait, your hair," he said, looking her up and down. "It's different!"

"Uh, yeah, it is."

"When did you do this? It must have been today, because you didn't… I mean, last night…"

"Yeah, I did it this morning," she said.

"Cool, very cool," he said. "I like it. It's… nice. Your shirt, too. I don't think I've ever seen you wear that before." Chloe frowned.

"You keeping tabs on me, Eliot?" she said, and he looked shocked.

"Me? No, I mean, I was just… never mind," he said, obviously flustered. "I'm… just here to see Drew, actually." He was silent as he composed himself. "You were… really good last night in the Tempest," he said.

"You saw?"

"Yeah, you should have told me you were in it," he said, reproach in his voice.

"You know, I would have if I'd known myself," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Honestly? I didn't know until about five minutes before I went on," she said. "I was there to help Rachel clear out her dressing room, then suddenly Victoria quit, Rachel was back in and I was roped in to fill in for Juliet who was held up in traffic. Damn, it all happened so fast, I didn't have time to… really get scared."

"Yeah, no… not a problem at all. It just would have been nice to know, that's all. So, what's going on with you?" At the question, Chloe chuckled.

"Um, where to even start today, it's been totally insane," she said, scratching her head. "Uh, I guess, at the moment, I'm just here to visit Rachel, you know, she…"

"What?" said Eliot, suddenly really listening to Chloe. "Rachel's here? What happened?"

"She got stabbed by a psycho," said Chloe, and Eliot nearly dropped his balloon.

"No, seriously? Oh my god!"

"Yeah, it was insane. Right in front of me," said Chloe.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" he said, taking a step towards her. "I mean…"

" _She's_ fine," said Chloe. "Me? I'm probably not, but I can deal with that later."

"Do you need… a hug, or something? I can help you, you know," said Eliot, taking a step toward Chloe, but she backed away.

"No, I'm okay, thanks dude," she said. "I just… I need some time to process what happened. It all happened so fast. One moment she was… and then she… I mean, he stabbed…"

"Are you two in some kind of trouble?" said Eliot. "I mean, you can tell me, of course. I won't judge you or anything, I just want to help you, Chloe, you know that, right?"

"Yeah I know that, and we're fine," said Chloe. "I mean…"

"… no, but a random psycho going around stabbing people? That's not right, is it?"

"I know."

"Or was it random?"

"What do you…"

"You _are_ in some kind of trouble, aren't you?" said Eliot. "Chloe, I'm seriously worried about you. I really think you should sit down with me and talk, maybe over a coffee? They have a café here, you want to…"

"Eliot, there's no need to worry about me," said Chloe. "I'm fine." She frowned. "Why would you be worried about me?"

"Well, I mean, you're hanging out with Rachel Amber a lot lately, right?"

"Um, well, yes. And? That's not a crime, is it?"

"Well, something's obviously going on, isn't it?" said Eliot.

"Look man," said Chloe, growing more and more uncomfortable by the second, "everything's really okay, right? I'm cool, Rachel's cool, she's my friend, we're… just, cool. Okay?"

"Okay," said Eliot, quickly. "I trust you, Chloe," he added. "Just remember I'm here, okay? I mean, if you need anything suddenly."

"Yeah, thanks man," said Chloe. "I'll see you around."

"Yeah, you will," said Eliot as Chloe walked away and out of the hospital.


	39. 0722

"Hello?"

When there was no answer, Chloe slipped inside the Amber household. It was absolutely silent, apart from the ticking of the mantlepiece clock, which was slightly unnerving, although Chloe would never admit that to anyone.

 _Remember when you first played Resident Evil?_

 _Yeah, what about it? I was ten and shit-scared. Me and Max couldn't play past the first half an hour or so._

 _The dining room._

 _Yeah, that was one of the first rooms you went to._

 _The dining room clock. Ticking, ticking, inexorably ticking as you walked past it._

 _Oh fuck._

 _Now you remember._

 _Well gee, thanks so much for making me remember that! So helpful._

 _One is glad to be of service._

 _And don't you start doing references. Bicentennial Man. Easy one._

She closed the door behind her and quickly entered the code into the office door – 0722 – smiling when it opened. Thankfully, inside the office, the ticking of the clock was somewhat subdued, a fact Chloe was eternally thankful for.

 _Right. Detective mode, check._

Chloe spent the next ten minutes swiftly searching through the office. She looked at papers, files, folders (remembering to put them all back where they were, as she learned in Detective Mode 101) to no avail. She did find a locked drawer which immediately piqued her curiosity, but she couldn't find the key. Eventually she stopped, annoyed with herself and looked around the room, blinking a few times to try to see it with fresh eyes.

 _Fucking…_

 _That's not going to help, you know._

 _Yeah, I know._

 _Then… ok, listen to me._

 _I always listen to me._

 _No, you always hear me. You don't always actually listen to me. Please, listen to me now. Let's think through this logically. We have a locked drawer, right?_

 _Yes._

 _We can't find any other evidence._

 _Yes._

 _So logically, what we need is likely in that drawer, or not here at all._

 _Yes._

 _So we need the key._

 _Exactly._

 _And you can't find the key._

 _Hey, what changed from 'we' to 'me'?_

 _Well noticed, you are listening to me._

 _Fuck you._

 _So eloquent. So, to find the key, you've looked in all the obvious places._

 _Yes._

 _So let's try and figure out where you haven't looked._

 _The key might not actually be here._

 _This is true, however, it might be here. So let's stop with the negativity and look, ok? We're doing this for Rachel._

 _Yeah._

 _The key is probably quite small, so it could fit into something, right? Like a keyholder, or a keysafe?_

 _Yeah, but there's nothing like that._

 _Nothing obvious, but a key could also fit into other things, like pot plants, ornaments, things like that._

Chloe spent then next twenty minutes checking ornaments, the bookcase (in between the books, behind the books), the pot plants, everywhere she could think of that could hold a key, but was ultimately unsuccessful. Eventually her eyes fell on a small award that was sitting on the shelf.

"Best dad?" she muttered, chuckling. "Sounds like politics to me, anyway." She put the award back down but stopped, hearing a slight rattling sound. "Wait a sec…" she muttered, shaking the award and hearing the rattling sound again. Grinning, she looked underneath, seeing a small opening. "Gotcha!" she said, opening the award and catching the small key that fell out.

 _Nice work._

 _Thank you._

Without wasting any time, she unlocked the bottom drawer of James's desk, and pulled out the box file. Inside were some papers and a small mobile phone. She picked up the phone and scrolled through the messages, her eyebrows shooting up as she realised who James had been talking to.

 _JAMES: [I'm told you may be able to help me with a problem I have.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [Crossing the line, eh?]_

 _JAMES: [Yeah yeah, don't gloat. I just need help, and according to my sources, you're the one to provide said assistance.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [Ok, let's talk.]_

 _JAMES: [I'll call tonight.]_

Chloe could see that exchange had taken place on the 21st April. About a week later, there was another short exchange.

 _UNKNOWN: [Found her]_

 _JAMES: [Call you in 15.]_

There was a break for about another week, then more messages.

 _JAMES: [Well?]_

 _UNKNOWN: [This isn't a charity. Quid pro quo, remember?]_

 _JAMES: [I already told you, I can't do that.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [Sure you can. You know why? I talked to her and she has a big mouth. Very interesting conversation. Would be a shame if some of that was made public. Could make things difficult for you.]_

 _JAMES: [Threats are not necessary.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [I disagree. It doesn't have to be necessary. You know what you have to do.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [Turns out we're gonna need to be a little more hands on.]_

The final exchange of messages was from earlier today.

 _JAMES: [Don't hurt her. We had a deal.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [Relax. I've got my best guy on it.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [How's your daughter?]_

 _UNKNOWN: [You know she attacked me first, right? You really should teach her how to behave. It's lucky she didn't injure me, or our little agreement might have needed amending.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [Nothing? I guess you don't need this taken care of anymore. Good.]_

 _Jesus Christ, is James in league with Damon Merrick? This is… totally insane._

 _Looks that way._

 _Were they talking about Sera?_

 _Again, it looks that way. A secret burner phone, talking about finding a female? I'm not taking any bets that it's not Sera._

 _I need to find out what's going on._

 _So ask him._

 _What?_

 _Ask him._

 _Are you fucking insane?_

 _It's a burner phone. He'll think you're James. Go ask him._

Chloe took a moment to make her decision, then started typing. As she thought, the reply didn't take long to come through.

 _JAMES: [You'll pay for what you did to Rachel.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [I told you, she came at me. Self-defence. Her and that little friend-bitch she had trailing after her like a sheep.]_

Chloe's blood began to boil at the description of her, but she sucked it in and carried on.

 _JAMES: [Where is Sera?]_

 _UNKNOWN: [Oh, we're using names now, are we, James? Relax, man. It's simple. You give me what I want, and I give you what you want, or your little problem becomes a bigger problem.]_

 _JAMES: [You're a piece of work, you know that?]_

 _UNKNOWN: [Didn't get to where I am today by being charitable. Now, did you take care of the evidence, or not?]_

 _JAMES: [You first. Sera.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [I know you're new at this, so here's a free pass this time. Don't fuck with me, James. Let me see proof of the evidence. Now, or the deal's off and all that lovely information about you gets out.]_

 _Shit._

 _You're actually going to destroy evidence?_

 _Wait…_

 _…'cause shit just got a lot more serious._

 _Shut up!_

Chloe looked at the rest of the stuff in the box. There was a sealed bag with a glove in it, labelled 'Damon Merrick'. Chloe snapped a picture of it and sent it across to Damon.

 _UNKNOWN: [Good. Now destroy it. Let me see it when it's done.]_

 _JAMES: [I'll brb.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [Brb? Didn't take you for a gamer.]_

Mentally cursing herself for the slipup, Chloe looked around the room, eventually deciding on the trashcan. She emptied it, put the glove inside it, set light to the glove with her lighter and fanned the smoke out of the window, closing the window once she was done. There was a slightly hairy moment when the glove burned a little more fiercely than she wanted, but it was over quickly, although the keypad by the door beeped once when she closed the window, causing her heart to stop for a moment.

 _Better not touch the window again. Some sort of burglar alarm, methinks?_

She took a photo of the trashcan and sent it to Damon.

 _UNKNOWN: [Good boy.]_

 _JAMES: [So, Sera.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [Don't get hasty, James. Since you're destroying the evidence, you might as well tell me which of my guys was the snitch.]_

 _JAMES: [Where is she? No more games.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [Sorry chief, but I think you're gonna have to do as I asked first. The snitch.]_

"Great, how am I going to find that out?" she muttered to herself.

 _Look at the noticeboard. Didn't that have lots of information on it about Damon and his friends?_

 _Good thought._

Chloe walked over to the noticeboard. There was plenty of information on it about Damon and his antics, police reports and headshots of his associates, including Frank Bowers and the skeevy guy that Chloe recognised from the concert, Sheldon Pike.

"Aw man, let it be him," she muttered as she looked through the information. The police report illuminated an assault where a witness had identified Damon as the assailant, and his gloves had been taken into custody (ex-gloves now), but there was nothing there to suggest he was working against Damon. There was one phrase on Sheldon's parole report that said he was 'very cooperative, no missed check-ins', but no smoking gun.

 _Bugger._

 _Just keep searching. I have faith in you._

Chloe muttered something under her breath and continued looking. She found the reports for three of the four suspects on the noticeboard, the only one she was missing was Rodney Sears, the bouncer outside the mill the other night. After some searching, she found a suspect profile on him on James's computer that was very… incriminating.

 _Name: Rodney Sears_

 _Known As: Thunder_

 _DOB: 19th February 1975_

 _Height: 6'6"_

 _Weight: 240 lbs_

 _Distinguishing Marks: Tattoo, inside left bicep. 'If the thunder doesn't get you, the lightning will'. Many other cultural tattoos._

 _Race: American Samoan_

 _Log: Mr Sears was detained by Arcadia Bay Police Department under Operation Cleanup. Officer Ernie Yates questioned him for a considerable period of time and reported back that he was willing to cooperate. He was assigned a handler and has subsequently been a fully cooperative asset of the Arcadia Bay Police Department, especially with regard to local criminal activity and, in particular, the operations of Damon Merrick._

 _Aw man, not him. I liked him. He let me into the concert._

 _Not exactly a reason to…_

 _… but he was nice to me. He actually took the time to talk to me, even if it was an argument._

 _So let it be someone else._

 _What do you mean?_

 _Look at this logically. He's the snitch so we want to keep him totally above suspicion, right? We want to keep him there, working for the DA. So we accuse one of the others, take the heat off his back._

 _Not Frank._

 _Why not?_

 _Frank's been good to me. And he saved Rachel and me earlier. I'm not putting him in danger._

 _Ok, not Frank. Accuse either Gerald or Sheldon. Both silly names, both deserve to be accused._

 _Sheldon. I didn't like him._

 _Any other reason?_

 _He attacked me._

 _You know what I mean. That parole report you found on him._

 _You mean the one that described him as 'very cooperative, no missed check-ins.'_

 _Exactly. Taken out of context, that phrase could be quite… illuminating, don't you agree?_

 _It could indeed._

 _And it's not like Sheldon is a towering pillar of the community. I mean, he attacked you, a sixteen-year-old girl with a glass bottle. I think he deserves some karma back at him, don't you?_

Decision made, Chloe picked up the burner phone once more. There was already a message waiting for her.

 _UNKNOWN: [I'm waiting.]_

 _JAMES: [Patience is a virtue. The informant is Sheldon Pike.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [Bollocks.]_

 _JAMES: [No, it's true.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [Prove it.]_

Chloe sent a snapshot of the parole report to Damon, focussing on the 'cooperative' comment, making sure other pars of the report weren't visible.

 _UNKNOWN: [Shit, I barely know the guy. And now he's gonna wish we never met. Good work.]_

 _JAMES: [Sera.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [Hold your horses. That just leaves our hand off. Show me you have my payment and I'll tell you where to meet.]_

 _JAMES: [How much?]_

 _UNKNOWN: [Don't play stupid. The same exact amount your pigs stole from me.]_

 _Fuck, now I have to find the money?_

 _Don't fret, Chloe. We're nearly there. You're doing really well._

Chloe went back to the box and looked through the papers and the evidence bags. She couldn't find the money, but she did find a sheaf of papers. Looking through them, she could see immediately that they were important to Rachel.

 _To my Rachel._

 _My name is Sera, and I am your biological mother._

 _The first thing you should know about me is that giving you up was the worst mistake I ever made. I was struggling with something at the time, something I have been battling with ever since. That battle has taken everything from me, most importantly you. But now I am in a place where I know I can be a part of your life. It is more than I deserve, I know, but I would love to try if you want to._

 _Please take your time, and if you have anything to say, or any questions, hearing from you would meant the world._

 _I love you very much, and I hope to meet you soon._

 _Love, Sera._

 _Dearest Rachel,_

 _I hope it's alright for me to write you again. I haven't heard from you, yet… and that's okay, it really is. I just... I feel like I have so much to catch up on, you know?_

 _I don't remember much of my life. It's a symptom of the choices I've made. So much is lot._

 _Except you. I remember everything about you. The crinkle of your nose, the depths of your eyes, the knowing smile that somehow made it seem like you'd seen it all before. I can call it up whenever I want, as clear as a summer day._

 _I was so afraid. Afraid that I would be a terrible mother to you. That I would screw you up, the way I screwed up so much of my life._

 _Now I know, of course, that my fear was wrong. Far worse than being a bad mother is never knowing what kind of mother I would have been._

 _I am sorry. If you can find the courage to forgive me, maybe we can start over. I want to. With all my might, I want to._

 _Love, Sera._

 _Beautiful Rachel,_

 _I read somewhere, maybe a fortune cookie, that you can never step in the same river twice. Because after it moves, it's not really the same river anymore, it's something new. Do you think that's true? I try to picture you reading these letters. I wonder what your reactions are, how I might seem to you, this mystery mother. I don't blame you for not writing back. You will write when you are ready._

 _I imagine your dad is still wary of this. That's okay. James is protective of you, just as I would be. But he's also a kind and compassionate person. That was the problem, really. I wasn't cut out for him, or the life he wanted to give you. I knew it then, even when he didn't._

 _I know we can never have the same relationship we should have had. But I hope we can have something new, together. I hope it so much._

 _All my love, Sera._

 _James,_

 _I understand your reluctance to let me speak with Rachel. But don't you think the decision should belong to her?_

 _Everything I have done over the past year has been to prove to you that I am ready to be in Rachel's life. I have gone through rehab, I am in recovery, and I am no longer in need of money or assistance. I know I can be a positive influence for her._

 _I am coming to Arcadia Bay in the hopes that we can at least meet to discuss this, so you can see how much I've changed. If you have any feeling left for me at all, you will give me a fair chance to prove myself to you, and hopefully to Rachel, too._

 _You were the love of my life, once. Please don't take this away from me._

 _Sera._

 _Kosterman & Shapiro_

 _Family Law_

 _Re: CEASE AND DESIST_

 _Dear Mr Amber,_

 _I represent Sera Gearhardt, lawful mother of Rachel Amber and petitioned for partial-custody of Rachel Amber, her lawful daughter. Please take notice that Oregon law requires current guardians of minors to respond in good faith to any and all lawful petitions by parents to re-establish contact with their children._

 _On behalf of my client, I hereby demand that you cease and desist from unlawfully denying contact between Sera Gearhardt and Rachel Amber._

 _You are now considered to be on notice that continuing refusal will result in a petition for suit filed under Oregon Family Law statute 42.4b, Tillamook County Family Services. This letter constitutes your final notice on this matter._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Kevin G. Shapiro, LLC_

There was also one final letter, which seemed to be a printed email from Sera.

 _James, this is enough. When you told me at the park that you weren't going to let me be a part of Rachel's life, of course I was angry, but I understood your need to protect her. It's your prerogative as a parent._

 _But sending that man to 'talk sense' into me? Threaten me? You're losing the moral high ground, here. What kind of a way is that for a DA to act? What would the voters say?_

 _I have the right to meet my daughter, and the lawyer I spoke with agrees. But more importantly, Rachel has the right to know who her mother is. To know the truth._

 _Do what you know is right._

 _Sera._

 _The Sera is these letters doesn't seem anything at all like the person James told us about last night._

 _Yeah, she seems… sober._

 _More than sober. Quite determined and driven._

 _She really wants to meet Rachel._

 _James never gave Rachel these letters._

 _It also looks like Sera stopped cashing the cheques that James was sending her. Guess her forgot to mention that part yesterday._

 _He forgot to mention quite a lot, it seems. We also know now why he approached a scumbag like Damon to sort this out._

Thinking quickly, Chloe pocketed the letters and continued to search for the money. After a few minutes searching, she spotted a trail of dust on one of the shelves. Moving the books aside, she saw a hole and, reaching in, her fingers closed around a bag. She pulled it out to see a wad of money, smiled and replaced the books. The took a photo of the money and sent it across.

 _UNKNOWN: [Alright, good work. And here's your girl. Ready to go.]_

Chloe was horrified to see the photo of Sera that Damon had sent across. She was tied to a chair, her face streaked with dirt and tears. She didn't look injured, however, something Chloe was grateful for.

 _Fuck, she's at the old mill._

 _JAMES: [This wasn't part of our deal. Let her go.]_

 _UNKNOWN: [No way, Jose. I'm changing the terms. Bring the cash, then we'll talk.]_

 _Holy shit, does James even know what he's getting himself into? There's no telling what Damon'll do to Sera, I have to get to her now._

Even through her rising concern, Chloe forced herself to put everything back (except the letters from Sera) where it was. Once she was satisfied, she headed towards the door. But someone was already there waiting for her and she almost bumped into him.

"Eliot?"


	40. Here for you, always

"Eliot?" said Chloe. The appearance of her friend had left her very confused.

"Hi Chloe," said Eliot. He walked forward into the office, causing Chloe to backstep back in.

"Eliot, what are you doing here?" asked Chloe.

"What am _I_ doing here? You're asking me what _I'm_ doing here? That's not really the sort of question you should be asking, now is it?" he said, pleasantly. "What am _I_ doing here? What are _you_ doing here, Chloe? This is Rachel's house, right? There's nobody else here, so why are you here?" There was something off about Eliot, and Chloe moved to leave the office, but Eliot simply spread his arms to block her. She was suddenly overcome by a sense of foreboding.

"Yeah, it… wait a sec… did you… follow me here?" she asked, and Eliot nodded readily.

"Of course I followed you," he said. "I had to, Chloe. I'm worried about you. What's going on? You said you weren't in any trouble, but I'm not sure you're telling me the truth." He frowned. "Why wouldn't you tell me the truth, Chloe? I'm your friend. I look out for you, I… care about you. I know you trust me, although perhaps not as much as you should."

"I know that," she said, "but I… it's not something I can really talk about, Eliot. Rachel… she needs my help."

"I'm sure you think she does, Chloe, but I'm more concerned about you," he said. "You should be too. You're really worrying me."

"I'm fine, Eliot, thanks for the concern, but it's really not necessary," she said, trying again to push past him. "You're acting… a little bit crazy. You really shouldn't be here." As she tried to get past, he noticed the wad of money in her hands and snatched it from her grasp. She lunged to try and get it back, but Eliot waved it out of her reach. "Eliot, give that back!"

"What's this, Chloe?" he said, waving the wad around. "This is… this is a lot of money, Chloe. You _are_ in trouble, aren't you? What have you done? What did you do, Chloe?"

"Eliot, give that back."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Chloe," he said. "I'm getting more and more worried about you. It's time I stepped in before you really hurt yourself."

"Eliot, you have no idea what you're dealing with," said Chloe, desperately, but he wouldn't budge.

"And you do?"

"Eliot, I'm…" Chloe reached for the money, but again the boy waved it just out of her reach.

"Chloe," he continued, "I've no idea what's going on, but it's important now that you tell me. I'm here to help you, remember? So tell me the truth. What did you do? Why do you have so much money? Are you paying someone off? Are you… were you _paid_ that money, Chloe? Is it blood money. Because, if so, I can't let you have it back. It's wrong."

"You… you wouldn't understand," said Chloe. She was getting desperate, as she knew that Sera was in more and more danger the more time marched relentlessly on, but Eliot didn't seem like he was on any sort of timeframe.

"Give me a chance, then," he said, throwing his arms out. "What the hell are you doing?" Chloe had had enough.

"Look, Eliot," she said, taking a small step back out of his reach, "honestly, you can judge me all you want. But, I gotta say, it's pretty fucked up that you followed me here right now, and I really don't have time for this, okay?"

"Oh, so you're biting now, are you?" he said. "I knew when I talked to you at the hospital earlier that you were up to something." He cocked his head. "Suspension isn't enough, you had to go one further? This is breaking and entering, Chloe," he said, then gestured to the wad of money. "And theft. That's criminal activity, Chloe. We're not talking about suspension or expulsion here, we're talking some serious jail time. Is that what you want for yourself? Because I'm telling you now, I'm not sure I'm up to the strain of visiting you in jail. Do you really want to put me through all of that, Chloe?"

"Eliot, I'm not stealing it," she said, but Eliot just raised his eyebrows.

"Oh? It's yours, is it?" he said. "I find that hard to believe. I mean, most days you only have a couple of dollars to scrape together. Like last week, for example."

"What about last week?" asked Chloe, with a feeling of dread.

"Well, you didn't eat lunch at all on Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday," he said. "And on Monday you only had the sandwich and a bottle of drink. You didn't have the cake. I had money ready to give you for the cake, but you didn't notice me."

"Eliot, are you watching me?" asked Chloe. "Knowing what I have for lunch each day… that's… seriously, I mean, that's seriously fucked up." She took a step forward. "Okay, I've had enough now. I need to go right now, and I need that money, so hand it over." She reached up for it, but again it was out of her reach. "Eliot, I don't have time for your games now," she warned. "Give me the money now."

"When will you, then?" he said, stepping forward and causing Chloe to take a step backwards.

"When what?" she asked.

"When _will_ you have time for me?" said Eliot, and his voice was beginning to raise. "You have all the time in the world for… for that little slut-whore Rachel Amber, but never any for me!" He was starting to get really worked up now. "Don't you realise that she doesn't care for you the way that I do? She _can't_ care for you the way that I do. Nobody can, Chloe. I have always had your best interests at heart. Me. Nobody else. Just me. You need to realise that, Chloe."

"Eliot…"

"I'm so _sick_ of you not seeing who Rachel really is. When will you realise what she's doing to you?" He stepped forward again.

"I'm sorry… what?" Chloe shook her head. "Eliot, take a step back please…"

"No!" he cried, stepping further forward. "You _need_ to _listen_ to me. You've been hanging with her… and doing… whatever it is you girls do when you're together… for a few days now. I _know_ she wasn't part of your life on Thursday. I was. I've been a part of your life for far longer than she has, Chloe. I've been the essence of loyal to you. So look at your relationship with her. What has it actually gotten you?"

"My… what? My relationship? You… you have no idea what you're talking about…" faltered Chloe.

"… the first night you hang out, what happens? You end up with a black eye…"

"… which wasn't her fault. She saved me from two guys who wanted to beat me up," said Chloe. "If she wasn't there…"

"Yeah right! It's _never_ her fault, that's the whole point!" shouted Eliot, banging his hand on the desk. "You _don't_ see it, you just don't see it, do you? She is bad news, she's toxic for you. Only I can give you what you need."

"Stop it, Eliot, you're starting to scare me…" said Chloe, backing away from him.

"And then the very next day she convinces you to skip school," said Eliot, beginning to laugh. He was gesticulating wildly with his hands, taking steps forward towards Chloe. "Magically, with nary a flutter of her eyelids, she barely gets in trouble, and you get suspended, nearly expelled." Chloe stopped when her back hit the back wall of the office.

 _Shit, nowhere to go. Fucking Eliot! Come on!_

"How… how do you…"

"… that's not important. What is important is…"

"… Rachel was there for me. She did everything she could to protect me."

"Are you sure about that, Chloe? Think back. Are you absolutely sure?"

"I was there, Eliot, remember? You were not. She did everything she could to help me."

"To help herself, you mean. And I guess it wasn't enough, as you still got yourself suspended because of her. And yet…"

"… you weren't there Eliot. You don't know!"

"Was she protecting you when she made you take part in a play you didn't want to be in?" he asked, totally oblivious to Chloe's actual emotions. He was uncomfortably close to her now, his face mere inches away from hers.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't come to the play with you, but…" started Chloe, but Eliot threw his hands in the air in despair and stalked away from her.

" _This isn't about that!_ " he cried, turning around and pointing at her. " _This is about you and me and how I can help you!_ "

"Seriously man, you need to shut the fuck up before…"

"I've been quiet long enough," said Eliot. He half-sat on the desk, putting the money on the desk beside him, "and don't you dare swear at me again." He took a solid breath and continued. "Chloe, I can't keep quiet any longer. I'm not doing this for me, I'm doing this for you, because you need my help. I know that, I know you need it, because you're… well, not to put too fine a point on it, you're blind."

"I'm… _what?_ " said Chloe, appalled.

"Blind. Well, blinded, I suppose, is the better word for it," said Eliot. "Chloe, I know you're an intelligent girl, but sometimes it doesn't matter how clever you are, or how attractive you are, or how sassy you are, sometimes you just can't see your hand in front of your face and it takes someone else to show you." He lowered his voice. "It's not your fault, Chloe, I know that. I understand how you feel. You see, you need to understand that Rachel is an amazing actress."

"I know she…"

"… I don't just mean onstage," he continued, ignoring Chloe. "No, what I mean is she is totally fake. _All_ the time, Chloe. You're real, and I hate to see her manipulate you like this." He shifted on the desk, but had lowered his voice now to a less-threatening level. Chloe, however, had not dropped her guard at all. "I've seen it in too many people," he continued. "Her influence makes them totally blind to what's really going on. Of course," he said, pompously, "I was invulnerable to her powers. She tried to influence me but I wasn't letting her. I had the strength to resist, and that's why I know I can help you shake off her manipulation."

"Eliot, I promise you, nobody is manipulating me…" she said, but he interrupted her.

"… I know that you believe that, and that's the sad thing," he said. "It's exactly the point I'm making. She is _so_ good at manipulating you that you don't even realise it yourself. In fact, you probably think that everything is your idea, don't you? That's exactly what she does. I mean, look at where you are now. A highschool dropout, hanging out with criminals and drug-dealers, and breaking into the DA's house? It's crazy! It just as easily could've been you in that hospital today. I wasn't there with you this afternoon and you were nearly killed! Don't you realise how dangerous it is out there without me to protect you?" He shook his head. "I almost lost you today. It didn't register until I spoke to you at the hospital. You need me to protect you. And I'm happy to step up to the plate." He leaned in. "I'll be there for you, Chloe, I promise you that."

"Dude, you realise you sound pretty much like a creepy stalker right now?" said Chloe. "I don't…"

" _No!_ " yelled Eliot, banging his hand on James's desk, causing Chloe to jump. "Stalking is defined as the wilful and repeated following, watching and/or harassing of another person," he cried. "I looked it up. It's about repeated unwanted interactions, but that doesn't apply here, because I'm looking out for you, Chloe. My actions and interactions are not unwanted. When have they been unwanted? _Never!_ "

"Eliot, you need to stop screaming at me, or…"

" _I'm_ the one that cares for you, Chloe. _Me_! Not Rachel! It's time you saw the truth. For once in your life, you need to see what's right in front of you!"

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're going to stop thinking about Rachel and pay attention to me now!" Eliot was getting worked up again, and Chloe noted where the money was, on the desk by his right hand. Her eyes flicked from side to side as she tried to see a way out for herself, but the situation was… challenging.

"Eliot…"

"Who was there for you, huh? When Max abandoned you? When your dad abandoned you? Who was there? Nobody else gave a _shit_ about you. But I was there, oh yes, I gave you a chance. I was the only one, so you owe me." He paused and looked intensely at Chloe. "We have a lot to talk about, you and me, and I don't care how long it takes. You need to realise that it's best to let me help you, otherwise…"

"Eliot, this is neither the place nor the time," said Chloe. "We're in Rachel's house, remember?" But Eliot was too far gone to see sense anymore.

"We're not leaving here until you see I'm right," he said as he began pacing around. Chloe spotted her chance. When his back was turned, she stealthily dialled 911 on James's phone and placed it on the side of the desk out of Eliot's view. After a moment, she heard a tinny female voice on the phone.

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency, please?"

"Alright Eliot," said Chloe, speaking slowly and deliberately, making sure the phone could hear her voice clearly. "You've got me here now. I'm a captive audience. You wanna talk? Okay, let's talk."

"I'm sorry ma'am," said the tinny voice. "Are you in trouble?"

"You want to talk?" said Eliot.

"Exactly right," said Chloe. "As I said, you've got me here now, a _captive_ audience. You won't let me leave, so maybe talking is exactly the thing we need to do."

"Good," he said, sitting down on one of the chairs. "What's really going on here?"

"Okay ma'am," said the 911 operator. "I've got that. Are you able to tell me where you're currently situated?"

"I'll tell you what's going on. We're here at the District Attorney's house in Arcadia, you won't let me leave and, Eliot, you're scaring me more than a little right now."

"Don't worry," said Eliot, "with Rachel in the hospital, James isn't coming here anytime soon. I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about your situation. Rachel is dangerous, you need to realise that!"

"Got the address," said the operator. "Thank you, ma'am. The police are on their way, please try and stay on the line."

Chloe sighed. "Okay Eliot, you're right. I didn't really want to admit it before, but I think my life might be in danger right now."

" _Exactly!_ " cried Eliot. "Thank you. All I want to do is help you. I'm glad you can finally see that."

"I can see that now, Eliot," she said. "You're right. I need help. I need help _right now_."

"Don't worry ma'am," said the operator. "Help is on the way. Please try to stay calm and keep him calm as well. Help is only minutes away."

"Hey, it's okay," he said, "I'm not going anywhere. I think what you need right now is a hug." He opened his arms, and Chloe began to feel her chest tighten.

"No, I don't think I need a hug, Eliot," she said, finally losing the fight against her tears. "Don't you get it? I don't want to hug you. I need to get out of here. It feels like I'm trapped in a nightmare, and I _can't get out!_ "

"Chloe, it's okay…"

"No, it really isn't okay," she said, crying more openly. "Eliot, you know we've been friends a while now, and you were an okay guy, but I've never thought of you as anything more than a friend, yeah? You're just not my type, and you trying to trick me into giving you a hug, or whatever, it's just… I don't like you in that way. And, to be honest, you're showing me another side of you now. A scary side."

"No, that's not right," said Eliot. "I'm not scaring you, you just can't see straight. That damned slut Amber has you good and proper, doesn't she?" He stopped. "Well, it's going to be more difficult than I thought, but I think I'm up to the challenge."

"What challenge?"

"Getting you de-brainwashed," he said. "It's like when you come out of a religious cult, yeah? I'm going to save you, Chloe, because at the moment, it doesn't look like anyone else can."

"Eliot, I just want to get out of here," said Chloe. "Please let me go." She took a deep breath and tried to control her tears. "I need to you let me go. If you want to talk about this, we can talk, but not here, and not now. We can do it in a neutral environment, with witnesses. Yeah?"

"Chloe, you're acting really strange," said Eliot, jumping up and crossing the room to her in an instant. He saw the phone and grabbed it. "What are you…" He looked at the number on the phone and hung up immediately, throwing it across the room. "You tricked me! You little, skanky _bitch!_ Can't you see I just want to help you?" He advanced on her and she backed away, ducking around him and frantically looking around for something to help her. She saw the 'Best Dad' award and grabbed it as Eliot advanced further on her. "You're going to assault me now? That's how far you'll go to protect Rachel? This is exactly what I'm talking about." As he talked, Chloe felt her brain lighten, her throat loosen and she was hit with a flash of inspiration. So much so, in fact, that she managed a small smile in spite of the gravity of the situation.

 _Chloe, don't hit him. He's being a tit but he doesn't deserve that._

 _Aha!_

 _What?_

 _You don't know me as well as you think you do._

 _What do you mean?_

 _I have a cunning plan. Watch and learn._

"No, Eliot, I'm not going to assault you," she said. Her voice was now quite matter-of-fact and calm. "You said you wanted to help me. Well, it's my turn now. You need help, you need the sort of help I can't give you, so here's a start." She drew back her arm and threw the award straight through the window, shattering it instantly. As it shattered, the light on the keypad near the door began flashing red.

 _See?_

 _I'm impressed. Actually, I'm very impressed._

 _Thank you._

"What the fuck? You broke a window? How's that going to…" spluttered Eliot, but Chloe interrupted him, smiling.

"Eliot, that's the burglar alarm," she said, pointing to the alarm. "It's a silent alarm. It doesn't ring here. It rings at police headquarters." She grinned. "It's ringing now since it thinks someone broke in through the window. Don't you think the DA would have a sophisticated alarm system? The cops'll be here any minute. Want to wait for them with me?" She nodded at the window and Eliot completely lost it, screaming as he shot past Chloe and out of the house. Chloe looked around and picked up the wad of money, following Eliot out of the house and getting in her truck. Without looking at the road behind her, she gunned the motor and drove away at high speed as she could hear the sirens in the background.


	41. Midnight Oil

"I've got the feeling I can break / out of anything that is standing in my way / you're the reason I can stay / and fight until the death / 'cause what I stand for will not give up…"

The radio blared as Chloe drove at breakneck speed toward the old mill. She sang along with the chorus, but for the most part stayed steely silent. At one point she glanced down to check the wad of money was still on the seat, then she noticed the bloodstain on the back of the seat from when she rushed Rachel to the hospital.

 _Rachel._

 _You saved her._

 _I got her into that mess in the first place._

 _No, you were just doing what she'd asked you to do. Find her mother. You had no way of knowing that Damon would show up._

 _I suppose._

 _Plus, think back. You were defusing the situation, then Rachel went and hit him. I think you can safely absolve yourself of responsibility._

 _I guess._

 _Oh, and you may want to keep your eyes on the road._

When she looked up she saw she'd drifted over to the left of the road and a large truck was barrelling toward her, honking its horn.

"Shit!" she yelled, yanking the wheel and swerving. She only just avoided the truck as she swerved past it; her truck's tyres losing traction as it skidded around the 18-wheeler and across the road to come to a stop, the sound of the other truck's horn followed it as it drove out of sight. Breathing heavily, her nerves were shot so she turned the engine off and got out of the truck. She leaned on the truck to catch her breath and clear her head and, while she did so, noticed where she was and the scenery around her.

She was in the forest, or at least, what was left of it. Most of it was burned away; the only trees left standing scorched and covered with ash. Ash blanketed the ground, too, like a fresh snowfall, but soft beneath her feet, rippling in the wind like an over-enthusiastic sand-dune. Ash was still falling like snow around her and, although the fire was now out, remnants still burned around the forest, creating individual smoke stacks that rose around the trees like signals, guiding her to… wherever.

 _So much destruction._

 _Yeah, and all because Rachel got angry with her dad._

 _She jumped to conclusions. He wasn't having an affair after all._

 _No, the truth was much worse._

 _Was it?_

 _Well, he_ had _been lying to her all her life. And he's still lying._

 _You don't think this is disproportionate? A girl gets angry with her dad, who, admittedly has done a pretty shitty thing to her, so she burns down an entire forest?_

 _Well, yeah, I mean that does seem kinda drastic._

"Hey, being a dad isn't easy, you know," said William, suddenly standing behind Chloe with his arm on the truck. "Nice wheels, by the way. I approve. And you fixed her up all by yourself. You certainly get points for that."

"Thanks. I get that being a parent is tough, Dad," said Chloe. She wasn't fazed by William's appearance. "But does that justify what he's done? I mean, he's lied to her all her life."

"Has he?"

"What do you mean? Of _course_ he has," said Chloe.

"How?" said William. His voice wasn't accusatory, in fact, he sounded as if he was enjoying the discussion.

"He didn't tell her about Sera," said Chloe.

"So is it lying if you don't tell someone something?" asked William. "It sounds to me that he's guilty of not telling her the information, rather than actually lying to her."

"It's the same thing!" insisted Chloe. "She had a right to know about her birth mother."

"You know, I think I'll agree with you on that one," said William, smiling gently. He put his arm on her shoulder and she shivered at the touch. "She did have a right to know. But think of it from James's point of view. When do you tell your daughter that her mommy isn't her mommy? When she's five?"

"No, she wouldn't understand."

"Six?"

"Still too young."

"When she's seven, then?"

"Dodgy. Okay, I get your point. I don't know."

"What about when she's eleven? As she grows older, it gets harder and harder to tell her, and then it's too late and you can't tell her. Sweetheart, don't judge James too harshly. He wants to protect Rachel, that much is obvious, keep her safe, but he probably got caught in his own trap."

"I suppose, but…"

"You youngsters, always thinking the entire world is against you," laughed William, his voice tinkling in the wind. "Give us oldies a break, why don't you?"

"I guess, it's just hard, isn't it?" said Chloe, and William nodded.

"It is. And being a dad is one of the toughest things in the world," he said. "I'd probably have done anything to keep you safe."

"Anything?" she asked, and William thought for a long time before answering.

"Pretty much, yeah," he said. "You and Joyce were basically the most important parts of my life. I would have given my life for you, were it necessary." He grinned. "If you ever become a mother, you'll understand." He grinned again. "However unlikely that may be."

"Hey!"

"Chloe, I know your heart, your emotions, your thoughts," he said. "I know exactly how you feel, who you're attracted to… who do you think you're talking to when you have those conversations in your head?"

"That's… you?" she whispered, realisation suddenly hitting her like a truck.

"I'm always with you, sweetheart," he said. "Maybe not in person, but in spirit. Trying to be the voice of reason in that chaotic brain of yours." He smiled gently. "Not always succeeding, mind you, but trying nonetheless." The sincerity in his voice was so real that Chloe found herself tearing up.

"Dad?" she whispered.

"I'm here, sweetheart," he said. "I'm never leaving you. I'll always be here when you need my counsel."

"I…"

"… go on, sweetheart, say it."

"I love you, Dad. I miss you."

"I miss you too, sweetie, I wish I was still around to watch you growing up into the beautiful woman I know you'll be." Chloe couldn't stop the tears now and she cried in silence, her father's arms around her. Finally the tears dried up and she turned to look at her father, still in his arms.

"Dad?"

"What is it?"

"Did you ever lie to me? I don't mean stupid stuff like telling me my drawings were awesome, or that awful ashtray I made for Mom wasn't a piece of crap. I mean, big stuff, really lied to me about… something that might hurt me to know."

"Why do you want to know?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"No, it isn't, sweetie," he said. "You think you want to know because that's what Rachel went through, but that's not the real reason, is it? Remember, you can't lie to me, Chloe. You can't lie to yourself. So, why?"

"I don't know," Chloe confessed. "I guess I want to hear you tell me no, you never lied, so I can put that fear to rest."

"What do you think?"

"What do I think?"

"Yeah. Do you believe I lied to you?"

"I want to believe that you didn't, but everyone lies, so I'm guessing you probably did."

"And thinking that is eating you up in case it's something you really don't want to hear," said William, smiling gently.

"Exactly!" said Chloe.

"Would you love me any less if you knew?"

"I guess that depends on what it was you lied about," said Chloe.

"That's the trouble, sweetheart. The truth can be really risky. You never quite know how someone will react when you tell them the truth. Like Rachel when she found out her father was having an affair, or so she thought."

"Yeah, that was quite drastic," said Chloe. "The whole forest…"

"The idea of you loving me even a little less? No, I don't think I'd ever want to risk that."

"So you _did_ lie to me?"

"Do you _really_ want to hear the answer, sweetheart?" said William, He wasn't smiling now, and his arms were crossed over his chest. "You need to be _really_ sure, honey. Just in case the answer is something you really don't like."

"Dad, you're scaring me now…"

"… no, I'm just asking you to be sure, that's all," he said. Chloe was silent for a moment, thinking, then looked up at her father.

"You know what?" she said. "Fuck it. I don't need to know. I know how much it hurt Rachel, so no, I don't want to know."

"Attagirl." William smiled and vanished before her eyes, reappearing in the truck, so she got back in.

"I like it better this way," she said, not looking at him.

"What way? That I'll always be the perfect dad?"

"Something like that," said Chloe, allowing herself a small smile. "How many people get to say that. And I want you to continue to help me." She breathed deeply. "Especially now. I mean, look where I'm going." She turned the radio back on, to hear 'Burning the midnight oil'. "No dad, my radio, my tunes," she said, turning it off and on again. This time the song she was listening to prior to her stopping the truck came back on. "Am I seriously going in to face Damon Fucking Merrick? All for Rachel? Am I crazy, dad?"

"Possibly," he agreed. "I mean, you're not insane, but a little crazy? Sure. In fact, I'd go so far as to say you're… hella crazy," he laughed.

"Dad, just… no, okay? You sound stupid when you try to be cool," she laughed back.

"I know, but it got you laughing," he said. "You sure you want me here?"

"Hell yeah!" said Chloe. "I like the company. Besides, you probably won't want to miss this. Shit's about to get real."


	42. Getting Real

Chloe parked her truck in the familiar mill, her heart beating wildly. It had certainly taken a beating from the fire. The timbers, already old and dilapidated when she'd visited for the Firewalk gig were scorched, burned and some parts of the place had collapsed completely. She turned the engine off and shook her head to clear it, then got out of the truck. In front of her was the door she'd used to get into the concert, but her attention was taken by the sight of Frank's RV parked roughshod near the entrance, and her concern was really piqued when she saw, on the RV near the door…

"Shit, is that blood?" she muttered, walking over to it and looking closely. It certainly looked like blood, and it looked quite fresh, too. She knocked on the door. "Frank?" she called, as loudly as she dared. When there was no answer, she tried peering through the side and front windows, but couldn't see anything through the dirt. "C'mon Frank, cleaning windows saves lives don't you know," she muttered, then "Frank, are you in there?" she called, a little louder, knocking again on the side of the RV. There was still no answer, so she cautiously opened the door and looked inside, gasping when she saw Frank lying on the floor, hand clasped over his shoulder. "Frank!" she cried, bending down to help him. He was conscious, moaning in pain. He recognised Chloe and tried to reach for her. "Wait, Frank," she said, grabbing his first aid kit. She knew basic first aid, but not much more. She could see a nasty stab wound in his shoulder, so she quickly cleaned and bandaged the wound as best she could, despite his protests. She found some painkillers and gave them to him, washing them down with a glass of water. "Keep pressure on it, I'll come back to help you," she said, "but there's something I need to take care of first."

"No," he groaned, reaching for her. "Damon is…"

"I know he's in there," she said. "That's why I'm here."

"No," groaned Frank again. "He's…"

"Frank, ssh," she said. "Rest up, I need to see Damon, but I'll be back to help you." Ignoring his protests, she left the RV and closed the door. "Sorry Frank," she muttered, "I'll ring for the ambulance when I'm finished with Damon and Sera." Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and walked back into the old mill, the irony of being back where it had all started not lost on her. "Final showdown," she muttered. "Ma… Max would be proud of me."

The whole place was badly damaged, light streaking in through the missing roof, creating god rays as it shone around the scorched timbers. The blue neon sign by the bar flickered in and out of life, creating an eerie effect as Chloe stepped carefully through the room, avoiding the debris. She noticed that the stairs, already rotten, had completely collapsed. Shivering, even though it was quite warm in the mill, she continued through the room, looking around and listening for any signs of where Sera was. She noticed a knife embedded in one of the still-standing timbers and took it out, grimly fitting it into her waistband. She headed past the bar (or what was left of it) and around the corner, towards the stage area where she saw Firewalk.

 _Shit, was that just three days ago?_

"No!" She jumped back to reality when she heard a female voice.

 _Sera?_

She stepped slowly and carefully forward, trying to make as little sound as possible. She peered around the corner to see a woman in a red top tied to a chair. It was definitely Sera, and she looked desperately scared. Next to her stood Damon Merrick, his back turned to her.

"Ssh," he said, his voice anything but soothing. "Everything's going to be just fine." He turned and Chloe was shocked to see he was carrying a small syringe. He flicked it and placed it down on a barrel next to a spoon and a lighter.

 _Shit, this is fucked up._

 _You're telling me._

 _Dad?_

 _I'm here, Chloe._

 _What do I do?_

 _Sorry hon, this one is all on you. I'm confident you'll do the right thing, though._

 _You sure?_

 _Have faith, o daughter-of-mine._

"I just want to meet my daughter," said Sera, her voice betraying her fear and desperation. "Can't you understand? Why does he want…"

"Your daughter?" said Damon. He slowly walked over to her. "Jesus, so that's what he's worried about." He bent down to face her, his face only inches from hers. "Can't let the public know the mother of the DA's daughter is some worthless junkie," he said, slowly and quietly, smiling.

"I'm not a worthless junkie," she pleaded. "I've been clean for…"

"Once a junkie, always a junkie," spat Damon. "Why d'you think business is good?" He laughed. "Plenty of repeat customers."

"I just want to see her," pleaded Sera. "You don't have to…" Her voice stopped as Damon grabbed her neck and she cried, twisting to try and loosen the grip but to no avail.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch," he spat. "Amber wants you out of the picture. So that's what's gonna happen." He reached over to the barrel and picked up the syringe. "After all," he said, his face now closer than ever to Sera's, "nobody believes a washed-out addict. Especially one that so recently relapsed. What is it you AA whores say? Fallen off the wagon?"

"No!" said Sera, desperately, twisting in her bonds to try to escape, but her efforts were futile.

"He said you've been sober for a year," said Damon, nodding. "Respect for that, my darling." He flicked the syringe once more. "You've definitely earned my respect for that. It's hard to kick this shit. Really hard, as I understand. It's a pity, really…"

"Please…" said Sera, her eyes bulging now, "please, you don't…"

"It's nothing personal, sweetcheeks," he said. "It's just business, you understand that, right?" He moved the syringe towards Sera, but Chloe had had enough.

"Damon!" called Chloe, as she stepped into view. His head snapped up and around to look at her.

"You!" said Damon, in surprise. He put the syringe back down on the barrel and turned to face Chloe. "Now there's a face I didn't expect to see, especially since I pig-stuck your friend earlier. What the hell are you doing here? You want some?"

"I've got your money, Merrick," she said, as bravely as she could. "So come on, let's talk bidness. Care to tell me what's going on here?"

"Okay, you got my money, that's a start," he said. "Figures that ol' Amber didn't have the gumption to show up himself. I must say I'm surprised he sent you, however. Perhaps he thought as you were a little girl, a young little girl, that I would be more disposed towards you?" He raised his eyebrows. "Seems that Amber underestimated me. I'm not exactly well-known for being well-disposed. Especially when I'm being fucked over money. Now, what did you want to talk about?"

"I want to talk about Sera here," said Chloe, indicating Sera. "She's done nothing wrong. Whatever James has told you, she doesn't deserve this."

"I told you, well, her," he said, "it's not personal, it's only business."

"Bullshit!" spat Chloe. "You know, when I see in movies and the bad guy says 'it's nothing personal, it's only business', that's absolute bullshit. It's completely irrelevant. You're about to ruin the life of this woman here, who's done nothing to deserve it except want to see her daughter. That's it," she continued, shrugging. "Anyway, he's a liar and a cheater, he'll screw you over the first chance he gets." At this, Damon chuckled.

"I like you," he said. "You've got spunk. Far more than most of the guys around me. Especially that snivelling little weed I had to sort out earlier. You know he thought that ratting me out to the cops would be healthy for him." He laughed. "Well, let me tell you a little secret. It wasn't healthy for him at all." He chuckled again. "Oh, he denied it and denied it, but… well, I won't go on. Anyway, I guess the point is, it really _is_ business. I've no personal interest in this situation, but Amber paid me to take care of a problem. Sera's the problem. He was desperate, and I'm not an idiot. I'm going to squeeze him for all he's worth now." He laughed, long and loud. "The DA is mine!" He looked back down at Chloe. "So, give me the money. Now."

Chloe backed away.

"Don't you dare, bitch," he said, advancing on her. She backed away again and he slapped her, knocking her to the floor. Chloe cried out as she fell, banging her elbow on the floor, knocking the knife out of her belt and sending it skidding across the floor to Damon. He looked down and picked the knife up.

"A knife, huh?" he said. "You came prepared. I like that. Pity it didn't really work out for you. I was just beginning to like you."

"No!" cried Sera, as tears welled up in Chloe's eyes, but she blinked them back fiercely.

"Talking's over," said Damon. "Money. Now."

"I… left it with a friend," said Chloe. "For safe-keeping." She tried to sound as confident as she could, but she was unable to keep a waver out of her voice.

"You're lying!" spat Damon, then noticed James's phone, which had fallen out of Chloe's pocket as she fell. He picked it up and scrolled through the messages, whistling softly as realisation came to him. "It wasn't Amber at all, was it? He… he doesn't know about this," Chloe shook her head. "It was you all along," he said, admiringly. "I'm actually impressed. You boosted the DA's shit, got my money, burned the evidence, all that?"

"Yeah, that was me," said Chloe, struggling to get up. "I… look, I'm trying to help. My friend wants to see her mother, that's the long and short of it. Anything you have with James Amber, that's nothing to do with me. Look, you can have your money, just… leave her go, yeah? James never really talked to her, she doesn't want to create any trouble at all, she just wants to see her daughter again. We won't mention you, we won't say anything to anyone about anything. So what say you take that money and leave us be. Yeah?"

To his credit, Damon listened to Chloe without interrupting, his eyes darting from her to Sera and back as she talked. She could see his own eyes working back and forth as he considered her offer, and finally he spoke. "What sort of guarantee do I have that you'll stay quiet?" he said. "Both of you."

"We'll promise," said Chloe. "I've never broken a promise to anyone. Ever."

"See, you almost had me convinced," said Damon. "Close, but no cigar." He paused, as Chloe stifled a giggle. "What? What's so funny?"

"Um, nothing," said Chloe, inwardly cursing herself. "I'm sorry."

"Tell me," said Damon. "Now."

"It's just… what you said there was a quote from a movie, that's all," said Chloe. "It's just that..." Damon looked at her.

"If I thought you were disrespecting me…"

"… no, not at all," she said, quickly. "I wouldn't do that, Damon. So… can I take Sera?"

"I'm afraid not," said Damon, and Chloe's heart sank. "See, I've got where I am today by trusting some people, and not trusting others. I haven't always got it right, especially today, with Sheldon, but I've got it right most of the time, knowing who can be trusted. And you? And you?" he said, turning to Sera. "No, neither of you can be trusted to keep quiet. So, I'm very sorry, but no. No deal." He sighed, picking up the syringe. "I'm sorry, Chloe, you really shouldn't have gotten involved in this. It wasn't your business, it wasn't your problem, but now you're just a liability. I truly am sorry." He moved with lightning speed and grabbed Chloe, spinning around behind her and putting her in a headlock. She screamed and struggled, but he was too strong.

"Stop it!" cried Sera, but Damon held the syringe to Chloe's neck as she struggled.

"The DA's family, an out-of-town junkie, and now a high-school girl? What a fucking mess," he sighed. "Never mind," he continued. "Soon you won't worry. It'll be okay, it'll all be okay. Just ask Sera."

"Please," said Chloe, her voice cracking. "Please don't do this, Damon."

"Too late, darling," he said. "It's time to go to the happy place that Sera loves so much. In fact, she'll be joining you soon."

"Hey!" shouted Sera. "Touch her again and I'll kill you." That got his attention and he let go of Chloe. She fell to her knees, coughing and breathing heavily as he approached Sera.

"Oh you will, will you?"

"Damon Merrick," said Sera, sounding far braver than she had done earlier. "You still have a chance to redeem yourself. Let us go. As Chloe said, you'll have your money, we don't care about that. We'll go and we won't tell anyone about this. Or, you do what you're about to do, you might kill Chloe, you might kill me. But if you don't, then I will track you down," she continued, lowering her voice to something just above a sinister whisper, talking very quickly but annunciating every single syllable clearly. "Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next month, but you'll be living, constantly looking over your shoulder, because my doom will be upon you. It probably won't be me, it'll be someone you don't know, maybe even someone you do know, something you think you can trust. But they'll be there to kill you." Damon started laughing.

"Is that so?" he said. "Ah well, guess I'll just have to make sure the two of you don't leave this place." He laughed again and grabbed Sera's face, turning it towards Chloe. "Let this be a lesson to you both. Make good life choices, or you'll end up like… well, like this. Enjoy your happy place, bitch." The syringe was millimetres away from Sera when he suddenly stopped, aware of a new presence in the room.

"Damon!" Chloe snapped her head around at the recognisable voice.

"Frank?" she said.

"Damon, what are you fucking doing?" Frank was leaning up against the wall, still holding his shoulder. The bandage that Chloe had put on was just about hanging on, but it was stained red with his blood. At the sight of him, Damon laughed.

"Oh hi Frank," he said, "I stuck you pretty good, didn't I? I guess you really don't know when to quit. Good to see you back on your feet."

"Damon, you're losing it," said Frank. "You can't… do this."

"That's what you told me earlier," he said, "and that didn't end so well for you, did it?"

"Frank?" said Chloe again, and Frank noticed her.

"Chloe, you're… Damon, what did you do to her?"

"Nothing… yet," said Damon. "You don't really want to do this again, do you? You do?" As he spoke, Sera bucked wildly on her chair and fell backwards, hitting her head and crying out in pain, but she was out of Damon's clutches. Frank saw his opportunity and moved towards Damon, who smiled and pulled out the knife he'd picked up earlier, advancing on Frank. Chloe rose unsteadily to her feet and looked around the room for ways to help Frank, but he waved her back.

"Chloe, stay out of this," he said. "This is between me and Damon. He's had it coming for a long time." Damon lunged forward, but Frank was ready for it. His reflexes were slowed by his injury, but he was still a strong opponent. He twisted his body around the lunge and Damon's knife found nothing but fresh air and the two men faced each other once more, circling warily.

"Chloe!" called Sera in a forced whisper. She looked up and Sera was motioning with her head. She nodded and made her way around the room, avoiding Damon and Frank, reaching Sera soon after. "Get me out of this," whispered Sera, and Chloe looked around for something sharp. Her eyes settled on a piece of jagged metal nearby and she picked it up carefully, returning to Sera and beginning to cut her way through Sera's bonds.

In the meantime, the standoff continued. Damon would feint a lunge from time to time while he continued to circle Frank, testing his reflexes. In turn, Frank would bounce back and forth, trying to carve out an opportunity to wrest the knife from Damon.

"Come on, Damon, give it up," said Frank. "There's no need to do this. We can settle this properly. Man to man."

"Fuck you, Bowers," spat Damon. "This ends now. I've had enough of being betrayed by those around me. That's two today. First Sheldon, now you."

"Sheldon? He betrayed you?" said Frank, surprised but not allowing himself to be distracted. "No way! That guy is as loyal to you as a dog."

"Nah. He ratted me out to the cops. He's been snitching for a while now."

"I don't believe that," said Frank. "What proof do you have? Sheldon is as loyal as the day is long."

"Got proof from the…" said Damon, suddenly realising, "… DA himself. Only it wasn't the DA, was it, Chloe?"

"Yeah, that was me. Um, busted," said Chloe, still working feverishly to cut through the bonds holding Sera. "Nah, it wasn't Sheldon that was the rat. I just told you that 'cause I didn't like him. He was a dick to me last week. How is dear ol' Sheldon, by the way?" She cut through the last of the bonds and Sera rolled out of the chair, rubbing her arms and legs to try and get the circulation back.

"He's… he's been better," said Damon, still not taking his eyes off Frank. "So who was the rat?"

"It was Rodney," said Chloe.

"Thunder? No way!" said Damon.

"Yup. I liked him, so I didn't show you the police reports," she said. "It was him. He's been passing information to the DA for a while now."

"Fuck! You little bitch!" spat Damon, involuntarily turning his attention to Chloe for a second, but that was all that Frank needed. He lunged for the knife and caught Damon's hand. Damon immediately snapped his attention back to Frank and they both fought for the knife, four hands around the knife and neck muscles straining as the stress began to tell. Frank's shoulder injury meant he had the disadvantage and Damon started to push the knife toward his opponent. Frank began to buckle under the strain as the knife continued its inexorable journey toward his face and the bloodstain on his shoulder began to grow as the wound reopened under the stress. But Damon's attention was solely focused on Frank and that was all the opportunity that Sera needed. She looked around and saw the syringe; Damon had dropped it earlier in the fight and it was lying within arm's length of her. She caught it up, lunged forward to where Damon was standing and sank it deep into his calf, depressing the plunger fully as she did so.

Damon roared in pain and anger, looking down to see the syringe embedded in his leg. He kicked out at Sera, but she'd already rolled away to a safe distance. His attention now diverted, Frank was able to get the upper hand and arrest the knife's journey toward his face, even going so far as to start pushing it back toward Damon. The drugs now coursing through his body took their effect and Damon's grip on the knife weakened as he began to feel dizzy. Frank saw his chance and pushed hard, the knife completely slipping out of Damon's grasp as he began to sway, his eyes rolling back in his head. He didn't even seem aware of the knife plunging into his neck and he collapsed onto the floor, blood gushing from the fatal wound. Frank took a deep breath and grimaced in pain from his shoulder injury.

"Chloe, take Sera and get out of here," he said. "Now!"

"Frank…"

"I'll be alright," he said. "I'll sort things out here, just go! Now!"

"Thank you, Frank," said Sera, and Chloe nodded.

"Yeah… what she said."

"We can do thanks and hugs and shit another time," he said. "You two need to be not here."

"Sure you'll be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," said Frank. "Just get going. Both of you."

"Okay, I'll catch you later," said Chloe, grabbing Sera's hand. "Come on," she said, guiding Sera through the mill to where she'd parked the truck. "Are you okay?" she said as she opened the door and helped Sera inside.

"I'll… let's just get out of here," said the woman, grimacing and rubbing her wrists. "I don't want to spend a minute longer in this hellhole."

"Got that right," commented Chloe as she got in and started up the truck. Gunning the engine, she spun the wheel and drove away from the mill in a cloud of dust. "Anywhere in particular you want to go?"

"Somewhere quiet, somewhere where we can talk."


	43. Return to American Rust

"Well, this is certainly quiet and out-of-the-way," said Sera, entering the little hideout at the junkyard. She looked around appreciatively.

"Yeah, we're… in the process of decorating," said Chloe. "It's a work in progress." She grinned. "We only moved in yesterday."

"We?"

"Yeah. Me and… Rachel. This is our… well, our… you know…"

"I'm honoured to be invited," said Sera, beginning to tear up. "It's the closest I've been to my daughter since… well, you know." She took a seat and sat down, Chloe sitting opposite her. "Chloe Price," she said, composing herself. Her voice was steely now and determined.

"You know me?" said Chloe, in surprise.

"I saw you in the play last night. I saw you and Rachel together." She smiled. "It was a special moment for me. I also saw how Rachel acted around you."

"What do you…"

"I know the Tempest," said Sera, softly. "I've studied it, I know the story, I know a lot of the script."

"Wait… how?"

"I found out that Rachel was in it a few weeks back, so I bought a copy. I knew I'd be here, so I'd hoped to be able to see her in it." She smiled. "Plus, I like reading."

"You like reading Shakespeare?" said Chloe, and Sera laughed. Her laugh tinkled like water running through fresh snow.

"Is that wrong?"

"Wrong? No. Weird? Totally. I mean, it's not that easy to read, and I only had to read one scene."

"I'd agree with you on that one," said Sera, still laughing, "but I wanted to persevere. Rachel was in it, I thought it was… my duty. So yeah, I knew the play. I also know that Rachel veered away from the script last night when she was talking to you. I don't know how many other people understood what was going on, but I did." She paused and looked at Chloe. "Do you love my daughter, Chloe?"

"What, I…" It wasn't often that Chloe found herself without words, but this was one of those rare occasions.

"You don't have to answer," she said. "I can see it in your eyes." She smiled. "Just take care of her, okay?"

"I intend to," said Chloe. "She's my… best friend."

"That I can understand. There are not many people who would have done what you did today. Everything you did today, that was for her, not for you. That's a true friend."

"Look, Sera," said Chloe, changing the subject. "I'm so sorry about…"

"She can't know," said Sera, but Chloe continued talking, not really taking in what Sera had said.

"I think you need help," said Chloe. "Look, I can…"

"No, I need you to listen," Sera said. "Rachel can never know what's happened." This time, Chloe heard and she stopped talking in surprise.

"No way, she needs to…" Chloe shook her head. "You're her…"

"What she needs is a loving father and a loving family. She already has that. It's not something I can give to her."

"James is a liar who…"

"… did everything to protect his daughter," said Sera, gently. "I would have done the same. He loves her, and she loves him. If you let on to her that James paid Damon to… do what he nearly did to the both of us, you'll destroy that love forever. Rachel doesn't deserve that."

"That's bullshit, Sera," said Chloe, "and you know it."

"You're not listening…"

"… I am listening, I'm just not agreeing with you," she said. "Rachel deserves to know you, she deserves to know what you've gone through to see her. You also deserve to know her. The amount of work you've put in over the last year to change your life is a testament to that. You can't just leave her with some bullshit self-sacrificial excuse."

"Rachel deserves a loving family. James is just protecting her."

"Oh, really? What from? You? She wants to meet you, Sera."

"No, she doesn't," said Sera, tearing up. "She wants to meet her mother. I can never be that for her."

"Sera, why are you saying all this?" asked Chloe, gently. "I know you want to see her."

"Because James is right. He's taken something from me that I might never get back… but he's right. I'm broken."

"Rubbish. You're strong, Sera. You're stronger than you realise."

"You don't know anything about me, Chloe."

"Oh no? I know that you're a recovering addict. I know you've been clean for a year and, thanks to today, another day on top of that. I know that you've worked hard, you've studied to better yourself. Fuck, you even read that bullshit Shakespeare bollocks just because Rachel was in the play! I mean, that's determination, isn't it? Fucking insane, if you ask me, but it's still determination. I know that you're financially independent, you've been returning the cheques that James has been sending you…"

"… you've done your homework, I see…"

"… and everything you've done has been driven by your desire to meet Rachel. Everything. And you've got through all that, and all that is left now is to actually meet her. She wants to meet you, Sera. I wish you could know how amazing your daughter is."

"I know, Chloe," said Sera. "I already know how amazing she is."

"She's fearless. She's brilliant, talented, beautiful and she's so… strong."

"She's had a good life, Chloe. Raised in a loving home. Given opportunities I could never have given her."

"Maybe that's true, Sera," said Chloe. Using the woman's name felt a bit strange. Was she pronouncing it correctly? Is it pronounced differently to _Sarah_? Sera? Sarah? There's definitely a difference, but could Sera tell that Chloe was trying to pronounce it differently?

"At least meet her, talk to her, get to know her a bit," said Chloe. "Maybe, I don't know, even develop some sort of a relationship with her. She's felt like she's been missing something her whole life, she told me so. That something was you, Sera."

"She hasn't missed anything, Chloe. Don't lie. She has the perfect family."

"Really?" scoffed Chloe. "You obviously haven't done _your_ homework. The Ambers are _far_ from perfect, even without all this shit," said Chloe. "I've been there, I know. James is an elitist asshole who sees Rachel as a bit of a status symbol and Rose is the dutiful Stepford wife that lets him walk all over her. And that's just scratching the surface!"

"Maybe, but Rachel needs them, I can't be responsible for taking her father taken away from her."

"He doesn't deserve…"

"Chloe, don't you get it?" interrupted Sera, reaching out and putting her hand on Chloe's. "It's not about James, it was _never_ about James. It's not about me, and it's not about you. It's all about Rachel. Tell her what James did, and you'll kill him for her. You understand that, don't you?" Sera was so intense when she was talking that Chloe couldn't look away. She stared at Sera for a long time, then finally lowered her head.

"The worst mistake you ever made was giving Rachel up," she said, her voice low. "That's what you said in your letter to her."

"You read them? Then you'll see Rachel never responded. She doesn't need me," said Sera.

"You're wrong. Rachel never responded because Rachel never received the letters," said Chloe, a new fire in her eyes. "James never gave them to her." Now it was Sera's turn to drop her head.

"I wondered if that was the case," she said, "but James told me that Rachel had… never mind, that's not important. Nothing can change the mistakes I've made. I'll never get to be Rachel's mother, not really, that ship has sailed. But there is still one thing I can do for her. The only thing I can do." She stood up, her eyes welling up and her voice cracking with the raw emotion. "Let me give her the father she deserves. The one who raised her, the one who protected her. The one who loves her more than anything else in the world. The one who is willing to do absolutely anything to keep her safe. Let me give her that." She sat back down.

"Why are you asking me?" said Chloe, although she feared she already knew the answer.

"This is on you, Chloe, and I'm sorry to hand the burden over to you. You have the power. You can tell her, you can not tell her, it's your decision. I know that if you tell her, you'll cause her more pain than you can imagine, and I know you don't want that for her. So please, let her have peace."

"You're willing to sacrifice yourself for your daughter?"

"I am," said Sera, without hesitation. "A mother always is."

"I don't understand," said Chloe, shaking her head. "You don't have to do this."

"Someday you'll understand," she said. "One day in the future, you'll selflessly sacrifice yourself for someone you love. Maybe Rachel, maybe someone else, but you'll do it without a moment's hesitation." Chloe looked at her in wonder, but another thought crossed her mind and she frowned.

"But why does everything have to be black and white, Sera?"

"What do you mean?"

Chloe stood up, gesticulating. "I mean, why does everything have to be a binary choice. If I tell Rachel, I hurt her. If I don't tell her, she'll never meet you and she'll be hurt that way. Why is that the only two choices I have? Why do I have to hurt her? I don't want to hurt her. Why can't there be a third option, where everyone lives happily ever after?"

"There's never a happily ever after, Chloe."

"No!" said Chloe, banging the table next to her with her fist. "I don't accept that. I lost my dad two years ago, but I'm okay with that now. It hurt for the longest time, but I know now he never really left me. He's in here," she said, pointing at her heart. "I lost my best friend two years ago when she moved away, but I know she's okay, she's got another life and that's… maybe not completely okay, but I'm getting used to it. Rachel's helped me with that so much you wouldn't believe. You asked me if I love your daughter? You know what, I think I do. She's my… everything at the moment, my only real friend. No, I don't want to cause her pain," said Chloe, "of course I don't. But I know, from what she told me earlier, that if she doesn't meet you, that will cause her pain. I talked to her this morning at the hospital, and her eyes were…"

"At the hospital?" said Sera, her eyes narrowing.

"Yeah," said Chloe, sitting back down.

"Is she…"

"Damon attacked her this morning, actually, we were just over there," said Chloe, pointing outside the hideout. "She's absolutely fine, he only stabbed her in the arm," she continued, seeing the look of horror on Sera's face. "I was able to get her to the hospital. But she's in a lot of pain at the moment. And when we spoke earlier, her overriding wish above all else was to find you. She asked me to find you so she could meet you." Chloe nodded to Sera. "Damon didn't set you back, you're still clean." She smiled. "I can tell Rachel I found you. There's absolutely no need to tell her _how_ I found you or let her in on what James has been doing. Even though I think he's a scumbag for what he's done," she said, hissing, "I'll keep that part out of it, but please, come meet your daughter. Isn't that what you want? Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

"More than anything," admitted Sera.

"Then let's make it happen," said Chloe, smiling, but then she frowned again. "There is one thing I don't get, however."

"Shoot."

"I'll excuse the pun," said Chloe, and Sera smiled. "I saw you coming out of Frank's RV the other day. Why were you there? When I told James, he jumped on it as proof you were still shooting up, but now, talking to you, I'm not so sure."

"When I said I've been clean for over a year, I wasn't lying. I wasn't visiting Frank to buy drugs off him," said Sera. "I'd… well, I was in Arcadia to find Rachel, yeah? Thing was, I had no clue where she was so I put out a few feelers. I couldn't go to the house, so I needed to know where she was, like the play etc."

"And I'm guessing that Damon got to hear about it?"

"Well, James figured out that I wasn't in Arcadia just to speak to him. I mean, I wanted to do it properly, but he figured that, after he told me no, I'd still seek her out."

"I saw texts from him to Damon asking him to sort the situation out. He said he'd put his best man on it."

"And that was Frank," said Sera. "I was… summoned to meet Frank in his RV, which is when you saw me. To be fair to him, I don't think he liked doing what he did, but I was warned away from Rachel. Stay away from her, I was told. Stay away or face the consequences. He talked to me for a few minutes, then got a phone call and drove to the junkyard, where I was told to leave."

"That's where I saw you."

"Yeah. I didn't know who you were at that point, however," said Sera. "But then I saw you and Rachel in the play the following evening, and I knew." She smiled, and Chloe followed suit.

"You ready to meet your daughter?"

"I…" Sera's eyes began to fill up again, but she stayed resolute and brought her emotions under control. "Yes," she said. "I'm ready."

Chloe stood up and held out her hand. "Come with me if you want to live," she said, smiling.

"Um, wasn't that a quote from the Terminator?" said Sera, furrowing her brow and narrowing her eyes. "That was… pretty random."

"Meh, just something I do from time to time," said Chloe, smiling.

"Do I get points for knowing that?" she said, and Chloe broke into a wide grin.

"You do," she said. "Twenty of them, in fact. You know, I think you and I will get on like a house on fire. Um, no offence," she added, quickly as Sera broke into a grin as well.


	44. A New Beginning

"Are you sure about this?" said Sera. She was following Chloe into the main entrance of the hospital. They'd popped back to Chloe's to shower and change. "I mean…"

"… you're nervous. I know," said Chloe. "It'll be fine."

"That's not what I meant," said Sera. "James'll be here. I… don't know if I'm ready to see him again."

"You leave James to me," said Chloe, taking charge of the situation. "Here," she pulled the sheaf of letters out of her pocket and stuffed them into Sera's hands. "Rachel never received these," she said. "I think it would be nice if her mother got to give them to her personally." She thought quickly. "She'll need to know that James never gave them to her, but don't make a big thing of it, okay? She's just down here, come on." She led Sera down the hallway to Rachel's room. At her request, Sera took a seat outside and waited while Chloe knocked quietly and opened the door. Inside, Rachel was asleep on the bed, with Rose and James asleep next to her. Around her, the nightlight that Chloe had earlier modified was projecting stars onto the ceiling. As she entered, James raised his head and smiled on seeing Chloe.

"Hi Chloe," he said, whispering. "Rachel's asleep right now, but I know she'd love to see you when she wakes up. Why don't you come back a little…"

"Mr Amber," interrupted Chloe. "I think you and I need to talk."

"Sure," he said, "but now isn't the best…"

"No, we need to talk now," said Chloe, surprising herself with her resolve. "I think it's best if we talk outside." She could see he was quite taken aback, but he eventually nodded and she led him outside. As soon as the door closed, he noticed Sera sitting on the chair and he started towards her. She stood up, ready to back away but Chloe stood in between them. "Sera, sit down, please," she said, raising her hands. "Mr Amber, this isn't the time or the place to start anything. I'm here to resolve an issue that we are all right in the middle of, okay? I'm not here to start a fight, or a ruckus, so let's just keep calm. Sera, you stay here, please. Mr Amber, perhaps we should go to the main hall and talk?" She walked away without looking back and, after a moment's hesitation he followed her without a glance at the woman sitting next to him.

Once he'd reached the main hallway, he sat next to Chloe. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed. "We talked about this, Sera is to stay away from Rachel, you were supposed to help with that! I don't know why she's here, but I know she will _never_ get into that room." He sighed. "I'm disappointed in you, Chloe. I really don't have time for this. I need to be here for Rachel and, on top of everything today, my house was broken into, so you'll understand when I say _this is not a good time_." He rose, but Chloe put a hand on his arm and applied pressure until he sat again.

"Mr Amber," said Chloe, completely ignoring his outburst. "Do you love your daughter?"

"What?"

"A simple question. Do you love your daughter?"

"Of _course_ I do!" he hissed. "What sort of a question is that?"

"Possibly one of the most important I'll ever ask you," she said. "You see, I _know_ you love Rachel. I _know_ you'll do anything to protect her. In fact, I know you'll do absolutely anything to protect her." She nodded down the hallway. "But this isn't about you, is it? It's not about me, either. It's not about Rose, it's not about Sera. It's about Rachel, plain and simple. I talked to her earlier – I didn't mention that I'd seen Sera like we agreed – but Rachel wanted to meet her above all else. She asked me to find her, and so I did. Who am I to deny her that wish?"

"Do you have _any_ idea what you've done?" he said. His voice was low but the words hissed out from between his teeth.

"Actually, I know _exactly_ what I've done," she said, nodding. "I know what _you've_ done, too. I know a lot more than you think, Mr Amber."

"What do you mean?" he asked, suddenly narrowing his eyes.

"I know, for example, that you love your daughter. I know that you love her so much you'd pay a drug dealer to kidnap her mother, undo an entire year's hard work and effort by injecting her with a load of drugs and potentially killing her, all to avoid her meeting her daughter."

"That's ridiculous," snapped James.

"Really?" said Chloe. "See, I know you're the DA and all that, but I would suggest that you _really_ think hard about your answers. Just remember, I know a lot about what's going on."

"How do you know that?" said James, looking worried now.

"That's not important," she said. "What _is_ important is that I was there, James. I went to meet Damon. He'd kidnapped Sera and was about to inject her with heroin. After a year of being clean, he was about to send her right back in the pit. He assaulted her, he assaulted me. He was about to kill us both when a friend of mine stepped in and we were able to get out of there."

"He was going to…" James looked shocked. "I didn't want him to hurt her, just get her away from Rachel." His voice was hushed. "He was actually going to kill her?"

"Uh-huh," said Chloe. "And me. I… I helped save her. You do realise that would make you an accessory to murder, you realise that, yeah?"

"I… that wasn't the plan…"

"… doesn't matter, Mr Amber. Thing is, he was going to do a lot more than that. He knew who you were, he was going to squeeze every inch out of you. Information, case files, the burying of evidence, actually, _more_ evidence. He was planning to _own_ you. His own, personal DA."

"He was…" James looked completely shell-shocked. "This was supposed to be a one-time deal."

"Yeah, he didn't think so. He had big plans for you, Mr Amber," she said. "Good thing I sorted that out for you. You didn't even have to get your hands dirty by destroying evidence. Oh, and Thunder is also safe," she added. "I sorted that, too."

"You… sorted… Chloe, what have you been doing this afternoon?"

Chloe shook her head. "There are some things that you are best off not knowing," she said. "Plausible deniability and all that. Suffice to say that Damon will no longer be a problem. You should actually be thanking me, because right now you still have a career. And a family." She smiled. "Anyway, that's not why I'm talking to you."

"It's not?"

"No. I'm _not_ going to tell Rachel that you hired the same drug-dealer that stabbed her to murder her mother. I'm _not_ going to tell Rose that, either. Sera won't be telling anyone, either. What happened is between her and me, no-one else will _ever_ know. You have my absolute guarantee on that, Mr Amber. No matter what I think of what you did, you and I both know it would kill any sort of chance you have with Rachel from now on. Maybe even with Rose as well. Agreed?"

"Agreed," said James, his head drooping in defeat. "And in return?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"Rachel gets to meet and know her birth mother. Sera and I talked earlier, Mr Amber. She has absolutely no desire to replace Rose, or you, or take Rachel away from you. She's a good person, Mr Amber, she's turned her life around, she's been studying and she just wants a relationship with her daughter. Think of what that would mean to Rachel. So," she continued, ticking off on her fingers. "One, she meets Rachel. Two, you beg Rachel and Sera for forgiveness. Three, Sera will drop the lawsuit against you and four, nobody will ever know what you did." Chloe looked at James in silence for a moment. "I'm not about breaking up your family, Mr Amber," she said, "far from it. In fact, what I'm actually trying to do here to keep it together. We both know how driven Rachel is. Can you actually see her not leaving to find Sera in the future, should they not meet now?"

"No, I can't," said James in a small voice. "Okay, you win, Chloe." He smiled wanly. "You've changed."

"How so?"

"You're more confident," he said. "More driven."

"Yeah, I guess what I've been through today would do that," she said.

"I'm really impressed with your research skills," he said, "you'd make a good negotiator some day."

"Uh, thanks, I guess."

"It was a compliment." He turned to her and offered his hand. "I know I've been a… well, you know," he said. "I'd like to offer an apology to you personally. You should never have been involved in… whatever happened today. I know that I've caused this and I'm sorry." She looked down at his hand for a long moment, then gripped it firmly.

"Apology accepted," she said. "I know what you did was all for Rachel, and I applaud the sentiment, but man, you did it the wrong way. Let's learn from it, yeah?" James nodded at this and stood up.

"Okay, I think I'm ready to talk to Sera now," he said, after a long breath.

"Okay. Remember, be nice. You promised. I'll wait here."

"Oh, I will," said James, walking back down the corridor. Chloe stayed where she was and saw him approach his former partner, hand out in apology. He said something to Sera and sat next to her, Sera breaking down in tears and nodding. They embraced and stayed, sat down, talking to each other civilly, Chloe breaking out into a genuine smile.

 _You've done really well, Chloe._

 _Thanks dad._

 _No, I mean it. You've moved mountains today, I don't think you quite grasp what you've achieved._

 _Maybe not, but that moment there was worth all the shit today. And I've a feeling the next one will be even more intense._

 _I'm proud of you, sweetheart._

Chloe grinned. Down the hallway, she saw James waving her over and she headed down to meet him.

"Chloe, she's awake. I thought you'd like to go in and see her first." He smiled. "I'm sorry for… you know what." Chloe nodded.

"Thanks, Mr Amber," she said.

"James, please."

"Um, James, thanks," she repeated. Rose opened the door and came out, smiling at her husband. Her face fell when she saw Sera, but James shook his head.

"Rose, there's someone I'd like you to meet," he said, gesturing to Sera, and Chloe left them to it, stepping inside Rachel's room. It was quite dark; the curtains had been pulled, presumably to enable Rachel to rest, but she was sat up in bed, resting against her pillow. She turned her head as Chloe came in and her face broke out into a smile.

"Hey," said Chloe, gently, but Rachel shook her head.

"Come here," she said, and grabbed Chloe's arm, pulling her in for a quick kiss. "I've missed you."

"Me too," said Chloe. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got stabbed," she said. "It hurts every time I move. But I know it'll heal." She pointed to her chest. "It hurts here too, but I think that may take a lot longer to heal."

"Maybe," said Chloe, "maybe not. Who knows what the future holds?"

"Doc says I'll have a sick scar there," said Rachel. "Maybe I can get a tat over it, do something arty with it."

"Not a bad idea," said Chloe. "Look…"

"We never actually escaped," she said. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's no trouble," said Chloe. "We've got time. Besides, there are a few things around Arcadia that are growing on me."

"Oh? Such as?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out," said Chloe, grinning evilly.

"Oh, that's a reference, isn't it?" said Rachel, thinking. "It must be a rare one, I've no idea."

"Sorry, no points for Rachel on that one," said Chloe, still grinning. "Blue Velvet. Or Hitch. Either would have got you fifty points." She stopped grinning. "Rachel, there's something I need to tell you," she said, turning serious. Rachel caught the switch and started tearing up.

"Did you find her?" she said, beginning to breathe heavily. Chloe looked at her and nodded, and Rachel clapped her hand to her mouth, tearing up completely. "My… mother?" Again, Chloe nodded, unable to speak. "How is she… I mean, what happened… I mean…"

"Whoa, slow down there, Tex," said Chloe. "There'll be time enough for all that later on, yeah?"

"So, when will I get to… you know, meet her?" said Rachel.

"How about I just ask her to come in?"

"She's… here?" said Rachel, her expression betraying her total shock. "Shut up!"

"Shan't," said Chloe, trying to grin and stave off tears at the same time.

"You actually brought her here?"

"Sure did," said Chloe.

"But what about dad, and mom?"

"All sorted," said Chloe. "You dad is currently introducing her to your mom outside. I think you'll find that things are… going to be okay."

"Oh my god… Chloe, what did you do? How did you…"

"Don't you want to meet her?" said Chloe, but Rachel was having trouble breathing. Tears were flooding down her cheeks.

"What if I'm a disappointment? What if she doesn't want to… Chloe, I'm… I don't think I'm…"

"Rache… ssh," said Chloe. "Sera saw you at the play last night. She already knows how amazing you are."

"I don't know if I'm ready to… Chloe, will you stay with me?"

"If that's what you want, then I'd consider it an honour," she said. Rachel stopped crying and nodded.

"Okay, I'll… I'm… ask her in," she said, taking a series of deep breaths. Chloe nodded and opened the door.

…

"Sera, this is Rachel Amber, your daughter," said Chloe, fighting to keep the emotion from closing up her throat completely and failing miserably. She coughed and swallowed several times. "Rachel, I am so proud to introduce you to Sera Gearhardt."

"Rachel?" said Sera, hesitantly.

Rachel sat up in bed, arms held out and Sera gratefully accepted them. As they embraced, the dams burst and they both started sobbing in joy. Chloe looked respectfully away, but she also was unable to prevent tears from coming herself. They continued sobbing and holding each other for some time, and finally they broke the embrace and looked at each other, soon bursting into tears again. Unable to keep her tears away, Chloe decided to give them some space and respectfully snuck out of the room. Outside, James and Rose were sat, holding each other. She nodded at them and they nodded back. Rose nudged James and he cleared his throat, Chloe looking at him expectantly.

"Mr Amber?" she said.

"Uh, Chloe, look," he said, awkwardly. "We'd like to thank you for… sorting this out without too much pain for us. We've invited Sera to join us for dinner tonight, and we were wondering if you'd stay with Rachel while we sort things out with her."

"Of course, I'd be happy to," said Chloe. She paused. "I'm… going to speak to my mother and future, um, stepfather now. I think, after the events of today I need to sit down with them. I'll grab something to eat and then I'll be back. If Rachel asks..."

"We'll let her know," said Rose. "Thanks, Chloe. For everything."

 _You don't know everything, Rose. You have no idea what you're thanking me for._

"My pleasure." She walked away from them towards the main entrance, pulling out her phone and dialling a number. "Hi mom… yes, it's me… yeah, I'm fine. How are you?... no, I was just wondering, that's all. Look, I'm a bit busy tonight… yeah, the Ambers have asked me to babysit Rachel, but I thought perhaps we could sit down and have a chat tomorrow… yeah, David too. Oh, also, I kind of told a friend of mine how wonderful your firehouse chilli is, do you reckon you could fester me up a batch that I could give to him… no, he's not my boyfriend, mom! Just a friend, that's all… that's great. I don't know when I'll be back tonight… yeah I'm at the hospital now… but I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Thanks mom… yeah, I… love you too… of course, I'll tell her. Okay thanks mom, I'll catch you tomorrow." Chloe hung up the phone and looked around, composing herself.

"Right," she muttered. "Time to eat."


	45. Author's Notes

It's always difficult writing these notes at the end of a story. I keep telling myself that I'll write them as I'm going along (which would be far simpler while it was fresh in my mind) but I never do! So I thought I'd let you in on a few things, some background on my writing processes, my thoughts on the characters, the game, the changes I made, that sort of thing. Hopefully it will answer a few of your questions and give you an insight into the novelisation. Of course, if you have questions that I haven't already answered, please do feel free to ask them in the comments section and I'll do my best to reply to them as soon as I can.

So, first of all, to the game itself. I must confess to having more than a few concerns when the game was announced as an outsourced game to a different studio, and then again when the voice actors strike meant that Chloe had a different voice artist, but they were soon put to bed when I began playing the game. I must also confess that after the first scene, my overriding thought was 'shit, there goes my Chloe/Rachel meeting from my first story!'.

Even though it was only three episodes rather than the five of Life is Strange, I found the game to be immensely entertaining and emotional. Not quite as emotional as Life is Strange, but it did come close.

When I began to think about novelising this, I wanted to first ensure I'd played all three episodes through. I was thinking at the time of writing from different points of view, like I did with Life is Strange, but now, at the end of the story, those chapters haven't materialised in the quantity I had expected. Still, I hope that the chapters from Rachel's POV ring true.

When I write, I like to be well ahead of my publishing times. As I write these author's notes, I have just published chapter 23 yesterday, so I'm around 20 chapters ahead of myself. For me, this is perfect, because I like to write the chapter, following the events of the game, then leave it for several weeks so I forget what I've written. I can then go back and re-write the chapter, this time adding my own dialogue, thoughts and events.

I know you're asking about the ending, I'll get to that. Be patient.

We already knew Chloe from Life is Strange, although we knew her from 2013 rather than the 2010 of Before the Storm. It was interesting to see her pre-LiS, to see how she became the person we know and love. Rachel, however, was a different kettle of fish. We never really learned anything about her in LiS beyond a few basic facts, so it was quite exciting to finally see her in the flesh, so to speak, even though we know her tragic fate, approaching her like a runaway juggernaut.

For me, writing Chloe has never been that difficult. Even more than Max, she was a character that immediately spoke to me, so much so that on occasion she has taken over my pen and written dialogue for me. She has said things that were completely unexpected and taken the story in a direction that was previously unplanned, so getting hold of her as a younger teenager was an exciting prospect.

I feel that the overall theme of Episode 1 is one of exploration. The title, Awake, seems to back this up. Chloe and Rachel meet and their friendship begins to awaken as the explore their burgeoning friendship.

I suppose the scene I had the most fun writing is the Dungeons & Dragons scene with Steph and Mikey. When I was younger, I used to play D&D a lot with my friends (I tended to be elected the DM a lot of the time) and so I drew on my own experiences to shape the dialogue and choices in that scene.

Some of the dialogue, and this goes throughout the game, I find a little stilted, wooden or unrealistically minimalist. I realise that the developers had to write the script, get voice actors to read it and there were obviously budgetary concerns with this, and this is one of the original reasons I decided to start novelising the games, because I felt there was so much more that could be done with the dialogue.

The way I dealt with the 'internal thinking' lines that have permeated both Before the Storm and Life is Strange has actually evolved throughout the writing of this story. It started off, similar to the way Max thought, as single lines, or a stream of consciousness. However, towards the middle of the second episode, it turned into more of a conversation in itself, with the big reveal towards the end of the third episode. I also must confess that when it turned into a conversation, the reveal hadn't occurred to me; in fact, that little nugget didn't reveal itself to me until about halfway through Episode 3.

I've always felt that Chloe is an intelligent girl, far more than her grades suggest; she is someone who has given up trying hard rather than someone who can't do the work. To this end, I needed to do some research into things like the Tempest, to give her a knowledge of subjects far beyond people's perceptions of her. This was fun in itself, as it meant I got to study parts of the Tempest too, a play I was not familiar with before playing the game. Both Chloe and Rachel are intelligent girls, but both use it in different ways. Chloe hides it cleverly behind her mask, while Rachel uses her intelligence and looks to get exactly what she wants from her friends and her teachers. It really takes her meeting Chloe to peel away that process. I am of the opinion that, when she first meets Chloe at the concert, and next day at school, that she thinks Chloe will be the same as the others; ready to acquiesce to her wants and demands, but she soon figures out that isn't the case. Chloe is her own girl, and Rachel is much the better for her friendship. The friendship evolves very quickly, probably a little too quickly (some licence given there for the pacing of the game) and a little unrealistic, but still, it's a friendship that proves invaluable for both girls.

I found the first chapter of Episode 2 a little unrealistic as well. I don't mean the subject matter, more the way it's executed. That's why I spent some time changing the dialogue. I felt that Wells would be far more obvious about his corruption, as he knows that the Prescotts are behind hi; I feel he would regard himself as untouchable. His agenda with regards Chloe would be more open; as a scholarship student, she would not be making the school the sort of money and prestige that students like Victoria Chase and Nathan Prescott (and, to a certain extent, Drew North) would be making. Therefore, he would want to find any reason he could to get rid of her. It's true that her behaviour doesn't help her in that respect, but it's quite obvious how inconsistent he can be – look at the difference between Chloe's proposed punishment when he feels she is the ringleader (expelled) and Rachel's punishment for the same crime (being thrown out of the play). I always found that to be a little odd – the prestige that Rachel brings to the school, especially as the star of the Tempest, I thought would have made Wells choose a punishment that wouldn't hurt the school as much. That's something I couldn't change, however, as it was an integral part of the story.

The rest of Episode 2 deals with the flowering friendship between Chloe and Rachel, but also introduces the conflict. We are introduced officially to Damon, through his altercation with Drew, we see the show, Rachel getting her part back (whatever way you choose it) and Chloe being dragged into it. We see again Rachel's influence over the teachers – first she gets her part back, she convinces Mr Keaton to accept Chloe as a totally spontaneous, unrehearsed Ariel, and during the play she is allowed to go totally off-script and essentially improvise a proposal to Chloe.

The exhilaration after the play (and the kiss), the plan to leave Arcadia is immediately tempered by the dinner with the Ambers and the revelation that closes Episode 2. Episode 3 carries straight on from the end of Episode 2.

When playing Life is Strange, I don't think I was the only person to see that the final episode was rushed, probably due to budgetary concerns. I think there's a little of that here, too. The first half of the episode is great, paced well. The confrontation with Damon and Frank in the junkyard is well executed, although once again, like with other high-drama points of the game, the dialogue is rushed and un-paced. I get that the situation would flare up and end how it ended, but one second everything is calm, and then suddenly it blows up without warning. I tried to re-pace that scene in this story, building up the tension slower.

One more thing before I get to the ending. We know that Sera is a recovering addict, and has been clean for over a year. Why, then, does she visit Frank? I've always felt this is kind of a plot hole in the game, in that it's never examined or revisited. It's just chalked up to something that happened and we shall never speak of it again. Well, I wanted to look at it and try to put a bit of context into it. To me, it comes down to one of the following options: (a) Sera knew Frank when she was an addict, from a previous history in Arcadia Bay, (b) we know from Damon's texts to James that he had one of his best men on the job, so it's possible that Frank was told to talk to Sera to warn her off Rachel. I think that (b) is probably the most likely of the two, I'd like (a) to be true, but there's no evidence that she ever was from Arcadia Bay (I have alluded to such in the story, which is why eventually I went with (a)). So I did the maths. Frank was born in 1981, which makes him 29 at the time of the game. Rachel was born in 1994, which would have made Frank 13 at that time, way too young to have known Sera, even if I was able to link her to Arcadia Bay properly. It's a pity, as a mixture of (a) and (b) would have been lovely to write. It's always harder when the messenger is someone you knew, or thought you knew, but I just couldn't make it stick.

Ok, I've rambled on enough now. I know you all want to know why I changed the ending. I always found it a little silly and rushed that Chloe is knocked out, and at that point the game basically ends. The first time I played it, when she woke up with Sera, I was convinced it was another dream sequence. I was very confused when I figured out it wasn't, and I think for me it was the most disappointing scene of the game. So I thought I'd try and make it more believable. To have Chloe and Sera contribute to the fight (ok, I took a little licence there to make it more dramatic) – for me, the way the game had been building up the final confrontation with Damon, I felt a little let-down that it basically felt so much like an anti-climax.

As for the end of the conversation with Sera, you are presented with a choice, whether to tell Rachel the truth or not. Here, Deck Nine suffered the same as Dontnod. At the end of Life is Strange, you are faced with a binary choice and I've always found it a lose-lose choice. That's why I basically wrote the sequel, in order to try for a better ending. I think the same thing happened here. Because of the binary choice at the end of Life is Strange, Deck Nine were forced into making players make a similar binary decision. And again, both choices are a lose option. One choice has you losing Sera, the other losing James. Either way, Rachel loses. And I wondered, why are we forced into that? Sera's idea that Rachel must never know because it would destroy her relationship with James may be based on the best of intentions, but why does Rachel have to know everything that happened? All she asked Chloe to do was to find Sera, nothing more than that. So why can't Chloe just say she found her?

That's why I figured out a third option. I think that, especially knowing what will happen to Rachel in the future, she deserves a little happiness. And, considering that Chloe is quite happy to stand up for what she believes in during Life is Strange, isn't it worth seeing the moment that she starts to harden her confidence, starts to believe in herself and what she can do? We all know that, at the beginning of Life is Strange, she is still at odds with her stepfather. Well, I think it is believable that she would start to give him a chance at the end here, and then maybe something happens down the line that strains the relationship again.

The final thing to mention is the mind conversations. It occurred to me that maybe the manifestation of her father that showed up in her dreams, and then again when she parked the truck near the end of the game, and the 'other' person she talked to in her mind were one and the same. That her father was just another side of her psyche, acting a little like the voice of reason. I thought that was a nice little touch to add in, just before she needed the strength to go and face Damon.

That's it, I hope I've answered some of your questions, and I hope that you've enjoyed the story. If you have any further questions, then please feel free to PM me, or write them in the comments. I wll do my best to answer any and all of your queries.

Next up for me? I'm planning a larger writing project away from Fanfiction, although I think I will be back at some point in the not-too-distant future with a series of on-shots exploring the period between Before the Storm and Life is Strange. Look out for the continuing adventures of Chloe and Rachel.

Finally, I'd like to thank each and everyone who has followed me through the last three years and three stories. For everyone who reviewed/commented, I am very grateful and appreciate the fact you took the time to let me know your thoughts. Thank you.

Catboiler

10th December 2018


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